


a day in the life

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Beatles Tribute [8]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Mush, Healing, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Domestic Violence, Postpartum Depression, Protective Jon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-06-09 12:22:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 52,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15267420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: It will take adjusting, of course. They had still been learning how to be a family together, but now, it's official and they're a family whether they're ready for it or not. They're the Snow family and it will take some getting used to for all of them.





	1. Golden Slumbers

…

 

 **One**. Golden Slumbers.

 

He’s still getting used to it. He’ll leave a jobsite or his AA meeting and will begin heading home before realizing that he’s heading towards the wrong _home_. He will have to turn around and start heading in the right direction of their new house. The Snow Home. Sansa has said that she wants to get a small sign to hang next to the doorbell next to the front door that says just that.

 

The neighborhood is quiet as Jon pulls onto their street. He glances to his parents’ house as he passes. Arthur’s car, always parked in the driveway, is not there and at this hour, that means that he’s either probably working a shift at the station or he’s gotten called in for something. He can see a light on in one of the upstairs windows and he imagines that his mom is sitting up in bed, reading for a bit before sleep.

 

Jon admits that he had been worried at first when he, Sansa and Brandon officially moved into the house just a few down from theirs, mentally preparing himself for some type of situation seen on sitcoms with his parents dropping in at all hours of the day and night. Jon knows he should have known better. Arthur and Lyanna had been ecstatic when they had moved into the neighborhood – to put it mildly – but they have always called before coming over or calling to ask if Brandon would like to come and play.

 

And somehow, his parents always seem to call, asking about Brandon as if they know when he and Sansa are looking to have some alone time together.

 

Jon pulls his Snow Construction pickup truck into the driveway and hits the button for the garage. At their old house, the garage hadn’t had the space for both his truck and Sansa’s car to be parked in it at the same time, but now, he can park it in next to Sansa’s and not have to worry about getting soaked if it's raining in the mornings. Just another reason, in Jon’s opinion, as to why this new house is amazing.

 

He makes sure the overhead door is closed and that his truck is locked as well and he heads inside through the laundry room door. This was one of the things Sansa had always wanted – an actual laundry room. Their former little house had had a stacked washer and dryer in the closet, but now, in their second house – and final, if Jon has anything to do with it – they have a laundry room right off the kitchen and he swears that the first load of laundry Sansa had done since moving in, she was smiling and humming the entire time.

 

They have set up a little bench in the laundry room as well and Jon sits there now, unlacing and taking off his work boots and then standing up, taking off his jacket and hanging it onto the hook on the wall.

 

Hearing clicks on the hard floor, Jon smiles when Ghost comes into the laundry room – finally – to greet him.

 

“Hey, boy,” Jon says to him quietly because it’s late and voices must be softer at late hours. “Are they asleep?” He asks and Ghost, seeming to understand the question, lets out a whine. Jon does his best to not frown and sigh. “Alright, Ghost. Let me go find them.”

 

Not that he has to put much thought into finding them.

 

The lights are on in the kitchen and family room which means that Sansa had still been up, waiting for him. The television is still on – muted – and is showing an episode of _Project Runway_. There is also a mug on the coffee table in front of couch. Jon can guess very easily about what had happened.

 

He heads down the front hallway and then heads up the stairs, Ghost following at his side.

 

The master bedroom is right off the top of the stairs, the door to the right that is over their garage. There are three more bedrooms and another bathroom to the left, down the hall, and Jon turns there now. Brandon’s bedroom is the first bedroom on the left, looking over the front yard of the house. And sure enough, in Brandon’s bedroom, Sansa stands in the middle of it with Brandon in her arms. She is swaying him back and forth and singing softly against his hair. Lady is in there as well, sitting at attention next to Brandon’s bed, ready and waiting for Brandon to be able to be laid down again.

 

Sansa has heard him coming and she looks at him now in the doorway, giving him a soft smile.

 

Despite Brandon obviously having trouble sleeping – and not for the first night since they’ve moved – Jon’s heart still tightens at the sight. Sansa holding their son and singing to him and giving Jon a smile. Sometimes, this whole thing still feels too good to possibly be true and Jon is expecting to wake up, alone in his flat, and find it to be a dream. And if that happened, he wouldn’t necessarily be surprised. Whether or not he deserves all of this or not, the jury is still out on that.

 

_Sleep, pretty darling,_

_Do not cry._

_And I will sing a lullaby._

It’s been a lot over the past couple of months. The wedding, the adoption and the move. It would be a lot for anyone – especially if that anyone wasn’t even four years old yet. Brandon is still getting used to his new bedroom in the new house and a few times a week, he wakes up, crying and yelling for mama or daddy.

 

 Before they saw to the rest of the house, Jon and Sansa were sure to put Brandon’s bedroom together first. Like his smaller bedroom in their old house, three walls are painted white and the fourth is painted a dark blue – nearly black. They have hung his _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ framed poster and his framed poster of The Beatles’ _Abbey Road_ is hanging on the wall his bed is against. All of his toys are arranged and the stone hippo Jon had gotten him for his third birthday has a spot now in the corner along with his toy box.

 

It’s the perfect little boy bedroom and when it’s not night, Brandon loves it. Or, rather, he _seems_ to love it.

 

Jon’s wondering how long it will take for Brandon to fully adjust. He’s read a parenting book, being a father now and not wanting to be completely incompetent and he’s read all about the toddler years. Toddlers already feel like their lives are in constant upheaval – hence the toddler meltdowns they are known for – and add on top of everything that has happened recently, Jon understands why Brandon is having a bit of a hard time, waking up in a bedroom and still forgetting where he is. But still, Jon can’t help, but wonder how long it will be until Brandon is feeling adjusting and comfortable in their house.

 

Sansa finishes singing and humming the song and gently, she carries Brandon back to his toddler bed. She settles him down and Jon enters the room, helping her cover the sleeping boy with his blankets once again. Sansa kisses Brandon on the forehead and Jon follows suit.

 

“I love you so much, sweetling,” Sansa whispers to him. “And I hope you have the best dreams tonight.”

 

It is what she says to him every night when she lays him down in his bed.

 

“Good night, Brandon. See you in the morning,” Jon whispers.

 

Brandon continues sleeping and as Sansa and Jon go to the door, Lady lays herself down on the floor, keeping herself at Brandon’s side for the remainder of the night.

 

Out in the hall, Sansa and Jon smile at one another and then she takes his hand and guides him back downstairs, Jon more than willing and happy to follow. When they are in the kitchen, Sansa turns fully towards him and Jon smiles, his arms circling around her waist as hers circle around his shoulders. Jon then presses his lips to hers, kissing her a bit harder than he knows she had been expecting – judging from the soft moan that rises in her throat as a reaction.

 

Sansa is dressed in her pajamas already – a pair of his plaid boxer shorts (which look much better on her, in his opinion) and a Winterfell University grey long-sleeve tee-shirt. Her hair is down and she’s not wearing a bra. As they kiss, Jon holds her tight and close and he can feel her breasts against his chest.

 

He wonders if she’ll tell him tonight.

 

He figured it out not that long ago. He knows Sansa’s body probably better than he knows his own – or she knows her own – and anyone would look at her and not see anything different, but none of them are Jon. From the moment he put his hands on his wife’s bare breasts a few nights before, he knew. He didn’t know how he did considering he’s never been in this situation, but he didn’t doubt himself. He still doesn’t. His wife’s breasts are the _tiniest_ bit larger. There’s no other changes to her except that, but that’s enough for Jon to know and he has had to bite his tongue more than once since then.

 

Sansa is pregnant, but she’s not telling him. For whatever reason, she’s keeping it to herself for the time being.

 

He has thought a couple of times that maybe Sansa doesn’t know she’s pregnant, but Jon has shaken his head at that. Sansa knows. He knows she knows. Out of the two of them, she’s the one who’s gone through this before. All he has to go by are her breasts, but he’d stake this house on Sansa being pregnant.

 

Maybe she’s waiting to tell him. For whatever reason. Maybe she’s waiting for the exact right moment to sit him down and tell him that they’re going to have a baby.

 

Whatever that right moment might be, Jon wishes it would hurry the hell up and get here so she can tell him already. Jon wants to hear those words – _“I’m pregnant”_ – leave her mouth and he doesn’t know how much longer he can act like he hasn’t figured it out for himself.

 

“Mmmm,” Sansa moans pleasantly once their lips slowly pry apart. “How was work?”

 

Jon smiles, dipping his head down, not wanting them to part just yet. He runs his nose down her jaw. “Good. Busy. The light fixtures came in today so it was really Val’s day. We were just her bitches and did what she told us to do.”

 

Sansa laughs at that and nuzzles her own nose against his ear. They’re reminding him, right now, of Ghost and Lady when they’re nuzzling each other. Jon and Sansa have both commented that it’s good that Ghost and Lady are both fixed or they would have more puppies than they would know what to do with.

 

“And how was your day?” Jon asks, his arms tightening around her waist even more, holding her body as tightly as he can without actually squeezing the air from her.

 

“Good,” Sansa smiles. “Finals for summer school are almost done so things have _finally_ slowed down a bit. I saw Nan playing Solitaire today on her computer, but I didn’t let on that I saw.”

 

Jon breaks into a grin at that.

 

“Are you hungry? I fed Brandon earlier, but I was waiting to eat with you.” Sansa breaks away from him and goes to the refrigerator to get whatever it is that she’s prepared for them.

 

“What?!” Jon says a bit louder than he intended and Sansa looks at him, obviously confused. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet? Sansa, you have to eat.” His eyes go to the clock on the stove. It’s nearly nine o’clock.

 

“I’m eating now, Jon,” she says, the slightest pull between her brows to show her confusion. “Did you eat dinner already?”

 

“No,” he shakes his head and releases a heavy breath. “I just don’t want you to be hungry because you want to eat with me and I’m having a late night. If I had known you were starving yourself, I would have called hours ago to tell you to eat.”

 

Sansa smiles at that. “I’m not starving, Jon.” She takes out a casserole dish and goes to set it on the counter. “And do you really think that if you called me and ordered me to eat, I would have obeyed?”

 

Jon frowns a little at that. “I wouldn’t have _ordered_ you,” he nearly grumbles and Sansa laughs softly. “Sansa, just…” he trails off and sighs again. “Just don’t do that again, okay? You need to eat.”

 

He forcibly has to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from adding _“and the baby”_ onto it. Sansa’s not telling him and he’s going to respect her reason – for the moment. But if she doesn’t tell him within the next week, he’s going to blow. He knows he will and whatever surprise she’s planning for him will be ruined and he’ll be sure to tell her that it’s all her fault.

 

“Yes, Jon,” she nods and smiles and he knows she’s just placating him, but he’ll take it. For now.

 

She has just one more week and then, he absolutely will be ordering her around and there’s not a damn thing she’ll be able to do to stop him because she’s pregnant with his baby and she did it on her own the first time and she’s out of her mind if she thinks he’s letting her alone – for even one second – during this second time.

 

…


	2. Do You Want to Know a Secret?

…

 

**Two.** Do You Want to Know a Secret?

 

“What else?” Sansa asks, turning away from the bag on the bed to look at Brandon.

 

Brandon is holding his stuffed wolf, Moe, in his arms and he holds up it for Sansa. “Moe!”

 

“Well, of course, Moe,” Sansa smiles and takes the wolf. “You want to bring anything else?”

 

Brandon’s brow crinkles as he thinks the question through. He then turns and scurries to his dresser, tugging open the bottom drawer. He then pulls out his WPD – Wintertown Police Department – tee-shirt that his Grandpa Arthur had gotten for him.

 

Sansa gasps. “How could we have forgotten that?” She asks as Brandon comes to hand it to her, grinning. She smiles as she refolds it and packs it away into his overnight bag. “What would you like your sleep bottoms to be?” She then asks and watches as Brandon scurries back to the same drawer. “Excellent choice, sweetling,” Sansa smiles when he holds up a pair of red gym shorts and Brandon beams.

 

They have just finished packing his bag when the doorbell rings. Ghost and Lady immediately begin barking and Sansa swings the bag strap onto her shoulder.

 

“Ready?” She asks Brandon with a smile.

 

“Yep!” He exclaims and with that, he turns and hurries from the bedroom, Sansa following after him.

 

She watches him as he carefully takes the stairs, his hand holding onto the bannister and taking each step one at a time. She can’t help, but smile. When they lived with her parents, there were stairs, but Sansa had felt that he hadn’t been old enough for them and would always carry him up and down. And in their first house, there had been no stairs except the steps leading up to the front porch. This staircase in their new home is twelve steps – a flight – and both Sansa and Jon have been practicing them with Brandon.

 

Ghost and Lady are no longer barking and each are standing at the window on either side of the front door, panting and wagging their tails.

 

“I keep meaning to get you a key,” Sansa says as she opens the front door to her mother and Rickon.

 

“You’ve just moved in. You have enough things on your mind for the moment,” Catelyn says, stepping into the house with a smile. She bends down and kisses her grandson on the head and then kisses Sansa’s cheek.

 

“Rickon, their leashes are in the laundry room,” Sansa tells her youngest brother before looking back to her mom. “Thank you so much for taking them all for the night.”

 

Catelyn just smiles again. “Your father and I were newlyweds once.”

 

“Oh, God!” Rickon groans as he heads down the hallway.

 

“Oh, God!” Brandon parrots, giggling as he follows after his uncle.

 

Catelyn rolls her eyes, the smile still on her face.

 

Sansa feels herself blush though as a married woman – and the mother to a young son – her family already, obviously, knows she’s not a virgin. Still, being called out on it by said family, it’s not exactly something Sansa wants made an announcement. She is quick to change the subject.

 

“Here is his bag. I’m pretty sure we have everything in there that he needs and if not-”

 

“If not, we have things for him at our house,” Catelyn cuts in, taking the gym bag for her. “Is everything alright, dear? You seem a little… nervous.”

 

_That’s an understatement_ , Sansa thinks to herself.

 

“I just want to have a perfect night with Jon,” Sansa says to her mother.

 

Catelyn just smiles at that. “You are going to learn very quickly that nothing in marriage is perfect.”

 

Sansa wants to disagree, but she can’t bring herself to. After all, she doesn’t know otherwise, does she? She’s never been married before and her parents have been married for nearly thirty years. Obviously, her mother knows more about being a wife than Sansa. Sansa is still learning. She’s been in love with Jon since she was eighteen and she’s never been this happy before, but she knows marriage is obviously different than just dating and being in a relationship. She doesn’t need their marriage to be perfect. Just tonight.

 

Once Ghost and Lady are on their leashes and Brandon has his shoes on, Sansa walks her family out to Catelyn’s car in the driveway.

 

“Alright, sweetling,” Sansa crouches in front of Brandon. “You be the best boy for grandma and grandpa tonight and daddy and I will be picking you up tomorrow morning. Alright?”

 

“Yep!” Brandon exclaims excitedly. He loves spending the night with his grandparents and uncle. He bounces forward and throws his arms around Sansa’s neck and Sansa hugs him back tightly, kissing his head.

 

Sansa smiles and holds onto him for a prolonged moment. She admits that she still has such a problem with being apart from him, but tonight, it needs to be just her and Jon. She then stands in the driveway, waving, as Catelyn reverses and drives down the street. As soon as she turns the corner, Sansa hurries back up the porch steps and into the house, closing and locking the door behind her.

 

She has had dinner cooking in the crockpot for hours now and it will be more than done by the time Jon gets home. She takes out a large pot and fills it with water and then puts it on the stove to boil. Once she sees that everything is being taken care of in the kitchen, Sansa hurries up the stairs and goes into hers and Jon’s bedroom. She’s planned what she will wear tonight as well. She’s planned everything.

 

She puts on the black light summer dress that shows off a fair amount of thigh and when she stands in front of the mirror, Sansa smiles at her reflection. She loves the way she looks in this dress. It’s simple, but she feels beautiful when she wears it all the same. She only hopes that Jon thinks the same when he sees her.

 

She brushes her hair and begins braiding it loosely, bringing it over her shoulder.

 

“Jon, I’m pregnant,” she says to her reflection. “Jon, we’re going to be having a baby.” She scrunches her nose a little. “Good work, Jon! You’ve knocked me up!”

 

She releases a deep breath.

 

“Jon, in about eight more months, we’re going to have a little George or a little Eleanor.”

 

As she stares at herself in the mirror and finishes her braids and practices the words, she begins to smile. She can’t wait to tell him. She’s been keeping it in for nearly three weeks now and tonight is finally the night. She’s made him his favorite dinner and his favorite cake. Brandon and the dogs are gone for the night. She has put the positive pregnancy test into a little box to give to him once they are done eating.

 

Tonight, is definitely the night.

 

She looks at the framed picture on the corner of her dresser. It was taken at their wedding reception just three weeks ago. Jon with one arm around Sansa, holding her close to his side, and Brandon held up in his other arm. All three are beaming at the camera and even now, Sansa can feel the happiness radiating from them. She’s fairly certain the same happiness from that day is still hanging over their heads.

 

Three weeks later since she’s become Mrs. Snow for the second time and it all still feels like a dream.

 

Sansa gives herself one more look and approves of what she sees. She has a pair of black ballet flats to wear, but she decides to leave them in the closet. She has quickly discovered that she loves being barefoot in their house and summers with actual warm weather in the North are so short, people have to take advantage of it while they can.

 

Back downstairs, the water is now boiling and just as Sansa dumps the bag of egg noodles in, she hears the garage door open and Jon’s truck pulling in.

 

Sansa exhales a deep breath and smooths her hands down her dress and with fluttering in her stomach, she nearly skips across the kitchen to go to the laundry room. She is standing there as she hears Jon’s heavy steps on the step and then the door is opening. He’s surprised when he sees her standing there, but he quickly breaks into a smile.

 

“Hey,” he says and the fluttering in her stomach intensifies.

 

Her husband is a ridiculously good-looking man. He’s wearing his Snow Construction tee-shirt and slightly tight blue jeans with his work boots and his hair is pulled back into its man-bun as it usually is when he’s been out at a jobsite all day, working.

 

“Hey,” Sansa smiles easily back.

 

Jon takes note of the dress she is wearing. He then takes note of the silence of the house. “Where is everyone?” He asks, setting his empty thermos down on top of the dryer, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

“I was thinking we could have an evening alone. Just the two of us. Is that alright?” She asks.

 

Jon is smiling and he reaches out, his hands sliding over her hips, pulling her in close to him. “Are you really asking me that?” He says and his mouth dips down, grazing along the side of her throat. Sansa nearly shivers as her fingers curl around his biceps and she tilts her head slightly to the side to give him more room. “Do you want me to go change?” Jon then asks, barely lifting his lips from her skin to do so, his fingers lightly fisting the material of the dress at her hips.

 

Sansa pauses and then shakes her head. “No.”

 

She loves when Jon wears his work clothes, to be honest. “I have dinner ready.”

 

Jon lifts his head and she smiles at him. He looks at her, intently in her eyes, and it looks like he’s able to peek inside right now and see all of her. His hands squeeze her hips and he gives her a small smile in return.

 

“I’ll be right there. I just need to take my boots off.”

 

Sansa nods and then taking his thermos with her, she leaves the laundry room to go check on the noodles.

 

Jon joins her a moment later, taking note of everything she’s done. “Is that…” he begins to ask.

 

“Yep,” Sansa smiles. “I’ve made beef stroganoff for dinner and chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting for dessert.”

 

She looks at him as she carries the pot of water to the sink to strain the noodles and Jon is staring at her.

 

“What?” She asks.

 

“What?” He echoes and shakes his head. “My favorite meal _and_ my favorite dessert? What’s the occasion?”

 

“Don’t get used to this,” she warns with a slight laugh. “I just wanted to do something special tonight.”

 

“I’m not forgetting an important date already, am I?” Jon asks with a smile and Sansa laughs again.

 

She grabs a spoon and goes to stir the stroganoff a final time and Jon comes to stand behind her, his arms wrapping around her, bringing her back to his chest.

 

“I love you,” he murmurs in her ear.

 

Sansa turns her head to look to him. “I love you,” she tells him quietly in return.

 

The fluttering has returned to her stomach full force once they sit down at the kitchen table with their steaming plates and glasses of water. Sansa thinks of the box she has to give him and she wonders if she should give it to him right now, but she decides against it. She wants him to eat his dinner first. He’s been working all day and once she shows him, she knows eating will be the last thing Jon wants to do.

 

“How was work today?” Sansa asks instead.

 

Jon is chewing and he gives a nod, swallowing before answering. “Stannis is still coming up at the end of next week. He says he’s not checking up on us, but that’s exactly what he’s doing.”

 

“Or maybe he just wants to get a better feel for how Snow Construction operates now that you’re a part of Baratheon Projects?” She suggests.

 

“Sansa, my paranoia is not interested in your logic right now,” Jon says and Sansa rolls her eyes with a smile.

 

“We’ll still be able to go furniture shopping this weekend, right?”

 

“Of course, we are. Can’t have a dining room without a dining room table,” Jon replies.

 

“I know it sounds so silly, but I can’t wait until we have an actual dining room table. We’ll be able to have our family over for dinner. We’ll have Easter and Christmas dinners and birthday parties for all of our children,” Sansa says, smiling fondly as she imagines all of it.

 

She looks to Jon and he’s staring at her with that intensity again. She exhales a breath.

 

The time has come.

 

She gives him a smile as she stands up and goes to the drawer in the kitchen to fetch the box. She realizes how nervous she is though she knows there’s no reason to be. She’s never done this before. The last time she had found out she was pregnant – with Brandon – she had been all alone and had literally ran for her life to keep her baby and herself safe. And then, coming home to her parents, there had been pictures taken and police reports and doctors of all sorts, checking her and her baby.

 

The last time she had found out she was pregnant, Sansa hadn’t had time to celebrate it.

 

This time, she knows it will be different because everything – including herself – is different now.

 

Jon is still sitting at the table, his eyes never leaving her, as she comes back to him with the small box in her hands.

 

“This is for you,” she tells him, holding the box out for him to take. She already feels like she’s about to cry, but she forces herself to hold off – at least for a few more minutes.

 

Jon takes the box slowly and Sansa stands in front of him, watching him, holding her breath. When he lifts the lid and sees the pregnancy test resting inside, he goes very still. He stares down at it – at the clear two lines that states that she’s pregnant – and Sansa waits for his reaction. She’s not nervous about him reacting poorly. Both have expressed multiple times just how much they want this. Still, the flutters are still in her stomach and its anxious anticipation, she knows.

 

“Finally,” he whispers.

 

“What?” Sansa wonders if she’s heard him correctly.

 

Jon shakes his head and when he lifts his head to look at her, tears are shimmering in his eyes. And seeing his tears, Sansa’s eyes flood with her own that she has been able to keep at bay. He sets the box down on the table and then he takes hold of her hands, pulling her towards him. He keeps tugging until Sansa understands and she sits down in his lap, one of his arms tight around her waist and the other cupping her cheek, pulling her in for a kiss.

 

Sansa more than happily sinks into it.

 

“Are you feeling alright?” Jon asks once their lips part. His eyes are still wet and Sansa knows hers are, too.

 

“So far, so good,” she nods and smiles. “I haven’t had a doctor’s appointment yet. I’ve made one, but I’ve been waiting to tell you so you can come with me.”

 

“Why did you wait in telling me? I’ve been going mad.”

 

“What?” Sansa frowns a little at that, her brow furrowing.

 

“Nothing,” Jon quickly shakes his head. “When’s the appointment? Tomorrow morning? Sooner?”

 

Sansa laughs. “On Tuesday.”

 

“Tuesday,” Jon echoes as if he’s never heard a better day. He pulls her in for another kiss.

 

“We still have cake,” Sansa reminds him as his hand begins creeping up her thigh and his lips begin trailing down to her throat once more. Jon absolutely loves kissing her throat and Sansa certainly doesn’t mind.

 

“We’ll have it for breakfast tomorrow,” Jon replies, lifting his head, and Sansa is still smiling as Jon drags her in for another kiss.

 

She hasn’t stop smiling in so many weeks now and she can’t imagine a time when she’ll stop smiling.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much!


	3. Baby, You’re a Rich Man

…

 

 **Three.** Baby, You’re a Rich Man.

 

Jon easily finds a pull-through spot in the parking lot and once he parks and turns off the truck, he and Sansa get out. Sansa then opens the backdoor to unbuckle Brandon from his booster chair in the backseat.

 

“Remember what we talked about?” Sansa asks him. “How are you going to behave in the store?”

 

“A good boy,” Brandon recites and Sansa smiles.

 

“My good boy.” She gives him a kiss on his head and lifts him from his seat.

 

Jon has gotten out the stroller, unfolding it next to Sansa, and as soon as Brandon sees it, he frowns.

 

“No!” He exclaims. “I wanna walk!”

 

He begins twisting in Sansa’s arms, trying to force her to put him down, but she holds on tight.

 

“Brandon, you just promised me you’d be good,” Sansa frowns at him.

 

“No!” Brandon exclaims again – his voice echoing across the parking lot – as he continues struggling.

 

“Hey,” Jon says, reaching into the stroller’s pocket. “I have something for you, Brandon.” It is his I-Pad and he holds the screen up for him to see. Jon presses play and he allows a few seconds of an episode of _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ to play before he pauses it again. “If you sit in the stroller, you can watch this while mama and I shop. Can you do that?”

 

Brandon has stopped struggling in Sansa’s arms and he seems to be seriously thinking this through; as seriously as an almost-four-year-old can think anything through. And when he sighs, both Jon and Sansa know that he has made his decision. Sansa gives him a kiss on his cheek as she bends down and settles him into the stroller and Jon hands Brandon the I-Pad, pressing play for him. The episode begins and Brandon is immediately pulled away from everything around him as he watches his favorite cartoon. Jon is grateful for that. This might be a long morning.

 

“Are you feeling alright now?” Jon asks as they cross the parking lot to the front doors of the store, Sansa pushing the stroller and Jon holding that morning’s advertisement he had printed off before they left.

 

Sansa smiles at him and Gods, he’s always thought that his wife is the prettiest woman in all of Westeros, but now that she’s pregnant, there’s just something about her that makes her even more so. Jon can’t exactly say what it is. Sansa looks as Sansa has always looked. And yet, her carrying _their_ baby inside of her right now, she looks absolutely radiant and she’s literally taking Jon’s breath away.

 

“Are you finally going to believe me now that it’s the tenth time you’ve asked?” Sansa teases with a smile.

 

Jon returns her smile with a frown of his own. “Hey. You better get used to this, is all I’m going to say.”

 

Sansa’s smile softens. “No,” she replies quietly. “I like it.”

 

And he knows what she’s thinking of right now; of how she was pregnant with Brandon and she hadn’t had someone besides her parents hovering around her. Jon just hopes that she’s prepared this time around because he is fully intending to smother her for the next eight months with his constant attentions. She might wind up killing him, but _he_ is prepared for that and it won’t stop him from taking care of her and their baby and making sure that both are absolutely fine.

 

This morning, Sansa had been suffering with morning sickness, kneeling on the floor of their bathroom as she hugged their toilet, and Jon had hated how absolutely helpless he felt. He held her hair back and rubbed her back in as soothing circles as he could manage, but he didn’t know what else he could do for her. He knows there’s nothing he can do. It’s not like he can take the morning sickness for her. He’s just never been the sort to stand to the side, wringing his hands and feeling useless.

 

Jon smiles at her now, too, and his hand slips to the back of her neck. “After we’re done here, we’ll stop at the market and stock up on crackers and ginger ale,” he promises her and kisses her on the temple.

 

Sansa gives him another smile and he notices her pinks are stained pink now. She’s still getting used to this, he knows. He is, too. Having a partner. Someone at your side to go with you through everything; not being on your own anymore to face it all.

 

Jon goes ahead so he can pull open the door and Sansa guides the stroller into the store, Jon behind her.

 

Almost immediately, a saleswoman has descended upon them. “Hi!” She greets chirpily. “Welcome to Wintertown Authentic Furnishings! Can I help you find anything today?”

 

Jon opens his mouth to respond – but he feels a little overwhelmed already. If there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s being accosted by the people who work there as soon as he steps into a store.

 

“We’re just going to be looking around for a little bit,” Sansa speaks before Jon can form his words.

 

“Well, if you need any help, just look for me. I’m Faye,” the woman continues smiling bubbly.

 

Jon can’t help but wonder if she’s perhaps on some sort of something to help with her unfaltering perkiness.

 

“Jesus,” Jon breathes as soon as they’re out of earshot.

 

Sansa lets out a soft laugh. “Come on. I think the dining room sets are on the other side of the store, but I’d look to see what else they have.”

 

“We can take as long as you want,” Jon readily promises.

 

They seem to be the only customers in the store anymore and he sees more than one sales associate, looking over to them, ready to pounce at any moment. Jon suddenly feels very apathetic to a gazelle when it spots a pack of hyenas.

 

“Is it too soon to start looking at nursery things?” Jon asks, wanting a distraction.

 

“A little,” Sansa nods. “Let’s wait until at least after we hear the heartbeat.”

 

Jon smiles at just the mere _idea_ of hearing their baby’s heartbeat.

 

They walk past an obscene amount of bedroom sets and enter the living room sets. Sansa is looking over things they pass and she slows down as they begin to pass one set in particular. When Jon had moved from the flat he shared with Robb into Sansa’s home with her and Brandon, he had had few pieces of furniture to bring with him. The majority of the furniture had belonged to Robb.

 

Now, in their much larger home, the furniture from Sansa’s living room is now in their family room and their front living room is sitting empty.  

 

Sansa gives a quick look to Brandon, seeing him still completely engrossed with _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ , and she goes to take closer look at the set, Jon watching her. There is a dark brown two-cushion loveseat and a comfortable looking dark blue armchair. The coffee table and four end tables that come with the set are dark wood. But that’s not what Sansa seems to be looking at the longest. It is a dark brown L-shaped couch.

 

Jon takes it upon himself to flop down onto it and then holds out his hand, beckoning for her to come. She does with a smile, taking his hand and sitting down a bit more calmly.

 

“Comfy,” Jon notes.

 

“Can I tell you something?” Sansa asks – as if she has to ask.

 

“Anything.”

 

She smiles then – as if embarrassed already for what she’s about to say. “One of the things I’ve always wanted in my life is an L-shaped couch, but I’ve never had the room for one.”

 

 “We have more than enough room for one now,” Jon says and he sits forward, giving her a kiss on the cheek and then picking up the price tag that is attached to the coffee table.

 

“Jon…” Sansa immediately begins to protest when she looks at the figure.

 

Jon is quiet for a moment, quickly working some math out in his head. He then looks to Sansa and he knows exactly what she is about to say. “We can afford it, Sansa,” he tells her.

 

To no surprise, Sansa shakes her head.

 

“We just bought a house, Jon. We have a baby coming. Whether we have the money or not, we can’t just blow what little we have saved on something we want rather than what we need,” Sansa tells him.

 

Jon’s lips twitch in a smile despite his best efforts. “Sansa… we can afford this. We can afford everything. When I signed with Baratheon Projects… not only am I getting a raise, but they also gave me a little bonus.”

 

“A bonus?” Sansa blinks at him. “You didn’t say anything…”

 

“I know. I should have, but I wanted to surprise you. I was going to keep it until I found the perfect opportunity to tell you about it.” Jon turns more towards her and takes her hands in his. “Sansa, I wanted to surprise you because I wanted to spend the money on something you really want.”

 

“It’s your money though.”

 

“ _Ours_ ,” Jon is quick to correct her.

 

“Not this bonus. This is all yours. It’s your company that the Baratheon’s wanted so badly. You should spend it on something _you_ want, Jon,” Sansa tells him, her words taking on something of a pleading tone.

 

Jon just shakes his head. “What’s mine is yours, remember? And how do you know I haven’t always wanted an L-shaped couch for myself as well? And we _need_ a living room set.”

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything to that, but she keeps looking at him and he knows that she’s thinking up a further argument about spending their money. He leans and kisses her before she can though.

 

“Brandon,” he then says. “Would you like to come try out the sofa?”

 

He gets up and collects the boy from his stroller, bringing him back over to the couch. Brandon giggles as he is set down at Sansa’s side and Sansa smiles, taking the I-pad from him so he can flop himself backwards.

 

“What do you think, Brandon?” Sansa asks him as Jon sits down in the armchair next, testing that out.

  
Brandon’s response is another giggle as he flops himself down onto his stomach next. “Comfy!”

 

She then looks to Jon. Jon is watching them both with a smile and he leans forward to look at the price tag on the coffee table again. They came here today for a dining room table and chairs, but there’s no harm in getting everything they need to fill the rooms in their house in one go.

 

When he lifts his eyes to look at his wife and son on the couch across from him, he notices the soft smile across Sansa’s face. He had been expecting her to be watching Brandon, but instead, her eyes are settled on him.

 

“What?” He wonders, smiling a little himself to match hers.

 

“How’s the chair?” She asks.

 

Jon stands up and holds out his hand for her. Sansa smiles and stands up, taking his hand, and he guides her into the chair before he settles himself onto the loveseat.

 

Sansa releases a contented sigh. “I can see myself sitting here, drinking hot chocolate and reading while I wait for you to get home,” she says, leaning back fully and closing her eyes.

 

Well, that does it.

 

Jon stands up, looking for one of those stalking sales associates. Not that he has to look for long – not when Faye, among others, had been watching them since the second they entered the store.

 

“This is one of my favorite living room sets in the whole store,” Faye smiles.

 

Jon has a feeling she says that about any piece a potential customer is looking at, but he keeps that thought to himself.

 

Sansa stands up from the chair to be at Jon’s side as Jon hands Faye the advertisement.

 

“You are still offering free delivery, correct?”

 

“Oh, yes. The special runs through the weekend,” Faye nods quickly, her eyes suddenly quite bright. Jon figures that she must work on commission. “And this set is one we have in stock so you can have it be delivered by the middle of this coming week.”

 

Jon nods and then looks to Sansa. She still seems a bit hesitant, but he knows her. He knows that she really wants this living room set whether she’s ever going to come out and admit as much. And he wants it, too. They need a living room set and this will be the furniture for their family. He imagines their dogs jumping on it – and Jon and Sansa telling them not to – and he imagines all of their kids climbing all over it, building forts from the cushions, and he imagines he and Sansa sitting on their L-shaped couch together, cuddling, while the kids are upstairs in their rooms, asleep.

 

“We’ll be ordering this set today and we also are going to be looking at dining room tables, too,” Jon tells Faye and somehow, Faye’s eyes seem to brighten even more.

 

“Of course,” she nods, trying to appear not too eager. “I’ll get the paperwork drawn up for this one and let you go look at the tables. Please take your time and find me when you’re ready.”

 

“Thank you,” Sansa says to her as Jon goes to get Brandon again, the little boy still throwing himself all over the couch and making himself giggle hysterically from his own antics.

 

“We’ll let you out again in a few minutes, okay?” Jon promises as he returns Brandon to the stroller, sitting and buckling him back in.

 

“ _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ , mama!” Brandon exclaims, kicking out his legs.

 

“What do you say?” Sansa asks.

 

“Please, mama,” he responds obediently and Sansa hits play before handing him back the I-pad with a smile.

 

This time, Jon pushes the stroller and Sansa walks next to him.

 

“What?” He asks her a moment later as they walk and he sees her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

 

“If you got a bonus…” Sansa begins, but then trails off and sighs, pushing hair behind her ears. “Do you think we should save it and spend it on something… I don’t know. Something more important than furniture?”

 

“I think not sitting my ass on the floor for the rest of my life is pretty important,” Jon replies casually.

 

Sansa gives him a look then and it makes Jon break into a grin.

 

He pushes the stroller with one hand and puts his other arm around Sansa’s shoulders, pulling her into his side. His lips brush along her cheek and he feels her lips turn upwards into a small smile.

 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers in her ear and Sansa turns her head so she can look into his eyes.

 

No man has ever taken care of Sansa. Certainly not the way she deserves and for too long now, she has put herself aside while focusing everything she has on Brandon. She’s not used to this, he knows. They may be in love and married and spending the rest of their lives together, but she’s still not used to this; someone in her life who loves her and _wants_ to take care of her.

 

Sansa keeps looking at him and then finally, she nods. Just slightly – but enough for Jon to see it. He stops pushing the stroller for a moment so he can wrap both arms around her and Sansa’s own arms slip around him. He presses his lips to her forehead.

 

They are building not only their life together, but their home; a home that will be theirs for years – possibly the rest of their life – and will see not only them grow older, but their children and grandchildren as well.

 

She’s wrong – though he won’t dare tell her that. He hasn’t been a husband for that long, but he’s not _that_ big of an idiot.

 

This furniture they are buying today is one of the most important things they can spend _their_ money on.

 

“Your ass’s comfort is as just as important to me as my own,” he then tells her.

 

Sansa lets out a mixture of a groan and laugh and Jon grins again.

 

…


	4. Every Little Thing

…

 

**Four.** Every Little Thing.

“Are you alright?” Jon asks quietly from her side.

 

Sansa chooses to ignore him this time considering this is the fifth time he’s asked her this in as many minutes. Instead, she continues unloading the bags of groceries scattered around their countertops. She nearly wants to ask him if _he’s_ alright because ever since their doctor’s appointment that day and then picking Brandon up from his parents’ house before going grocery shopping, it seems as if Jon has been in something of a daze.

 

That’s perfectly understandable, Sansa knows. She knows that once her mind fully registers what the doctor had announced to them at their first appointment, she will more than likely be in a daze as well. And she is trying her best to be the utmost picture of patience right now, but she also needs Jon to do several things. She definitely needs him to snap out of it, she needs him to stop hovering and she needs him to just be _Jon_.

 

“Done, mama!” Brandon exclaims, spinning away from the pantry door with a beaming smile.

 

Sansa looks at Brandon and gives him a wide smile when she sees. She has set a bag of canned goods on the floor for him and asked if he would put the cans away in the pantry for her. He’s always so eager to be her little helper and she loves how proud he is of himself when he’s able to do something that she’s asked. She knows this won’t last. She’ll blink and Brandon will be a sullen teenager, yelling at her that she’s ruining his life before slamming his bedroom door and blasting music, but for now, he’s still her sweet little boy that always wants to be with her and help her with whatever she asks.

 

“Good job, sweetling,” she commends him and Brandon smiles proudly, bouncing on his toes. “Want to help some more?” She asks.

 

“Yes!” Brandon exclaims eagerly just like she knew he would.

 

She looks through the bags on the counter and then picks one up, setting it down on the floor in front of him and then kneeling down as well. “Can you put the vegetables in their proper bins?” She asks. She reaches into the bag. “This is an onion,” she holds one up in her hand for him to see. “And this is a potato,” she holds one up in her other hand. There are two stacked bins on the floor of the pantry and Sansa opens the top drawer, placing the onion into that one and then opening the bottom bin, she places the potato into that one. “Alright?” She asks Brandon.

 

He holds up his hands as if she’s about to take more from the bag. “I do it, mama!” He tells her.

 

“Yes, you do it,” Sansa smiles at him and kisses him on the head as she rises back to her feet. When she turns back towards the rest of the kitchen, Jon is now standing at the sink, looking out the window into their backyard, drinking from a glass of water and looking a million miles away. Sansa does her best to not roll her eyes as she goes to the remaining bags on the counter. “Hey,” she says.

 

Jon instantly spins back towards her.

 

“These are yours.” She hands him a pack of cigarettes.

 

His smoking is not often and when he does smoke, it’s either in the garage with the overhang door open or in his truck without she or Brandon around to breathe it in and he only does it when he would rather have a beer instead. It takes him a while to go through a pack – thankfully – but they had been at the market and he had remembered that he needed a new pack to have on hand – just in case.

 

Jon puts his glass down and then taking the pack from her, he goes right to the trash to pitch them in. “I can’t believe I even _thought_ to buy those,” he mutters.

 

This time, Sansa does roll her eyes and goes to the trash after him, taking the pack back out. “That is _literally_ throwing money away,” she points out to him. She puts the pack on the counter and then takes Jon’s hands in hers. “Jon,” she takes a deep breath. “I need you.”

 

“Anything. Anything you need,” he readily answers. “What do you need?”

 

Sansa shakes her head. “I need _you_. I… I know this is a lot and neither of us were _ever_ expecting this and I completely understand why you’re freaking out, but… can you not? Not right now anyway?”

 

Jon exhales a heavy sigh. “You’re right. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

 

Sansa shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. Just be you.”

 

Jon gently pulls his hands from hers and then slide them over her cheeks. “How are _you_?”

 

She smiles. “A bit numb, to be honest. I can’t believe…” she shakes her head. “This certainly doesn’t run in my family.”

 

“Mine neither,” he says with a little smile. He gently pulls her forward until their chests brush together and Sansa slips her arms around his waist as Jon lightly presses his lips to hers. “My sperm must be super,” he teases, his lips curved into a smile still against hers.

 

Normally, Sansa would probably groan at that, but right now, she laughs because after today and the news they received at the doctor’s, it’s a day for laughing. The day for a freak out will come later. Today is the day another of her dreams has come true. Today is another day where Sansa looks at everything – her husband and her son and this house – and she has to remind herself that none of this is a dream. It’s all true and real.

 

“I love you,” she says to him in a soft voice.

 

“Gods, Sansa. I love you so much,” Jon says before kissing her once again.

 

“Done, mama!” Brandon exclaims again.

 

Both Sansa and Jon turn their heads to see Brandon standing there, smiling and looking quite proud of himself. She’s already worried of how she’ll explain to Brandon what will be happening in the next coming months. There’s already been so many changes in his young life and he’s still having difficulty sleeping through the night, waking up and crying for both of his parents, having forgotten where he is.

 

How will it affect him when there’s even more changes and he becomes a big brother?

 

Sansa breaks away from Jon to come look and see that all of the potatoes and onions are in their proper bins. She bends down and hoists Brandon up in her arms, not even going to think about when he’s too old and big and heavy to do it any longer. “You are the best little helper I could ever ask for, sweetling,” she says before kissing him on his cheek and Brandon giggles.

 

Jon smiles and reaches over, taking Brandon from Sansa’s arms into his. “What should we have for dinner?” He asks them both.

 

“Nuggets!” Brandon exclaims to no surprise to either of his parents.

 

Sansa hesitates. They really shouldn’t. They have just gone shopping at the market and their kitchen is now stocked with food; plenty of healthy food that can be cooked and eaten for dinner. The only problem though is Sansa feels as if cooking is the very last thing she wants to do right now, to be honest. And one night of eating horrible isn’t _too_ bad, right? She tries to convince herself. She makes sure Brandon eats healthy all of the time while allowing him little treats here and there. It’s not as if he gets chicken nuggets every night.

 

“Well… today _is_ a special day,” Sansa begins to say, looking to Jon, finding that he’s already smiling.

 

“I could go for a Big Mac,” Jon admits and suddenly, Sansa feels her mouth salivating for the same thing.

 

“Alright. McDonalds tonight-”

 

“Yay!” Brandon’s exclamation cuts her off.

 

“But tomorrow, we’re right back to eating a healthy dinner, Little Snow,” Sansa says, making sure she’s using her best “firm mom” tone.

 

Brandon certainly doesn’t seem to hear though, considering he’s saying “McDonalds” over and over again and Jon is smiling widely, almost laughing at their son’s excitement and enthusiasm for chicken nuggets.

 

Jon leaves shortly after to bring back a chicken nuggets Happy Meal and two Big Mac value meals and while he’s gone, Sansa straightens up the kitchen and then joins Brandon in the family room, where he’s been put in charge of choosing a movie to watch that evening with their dinner.

 

It was decided that the set they had bought would be better suited in their family room than their living room. After all, their new L-shaped couch is the perfect type of furniture that was made for lounging. Sansa’s furniture that had been previously in their family room had been set up down in their finished basement for another sitting area – Sansa imagines that when their children are older, they and their friends will prefer to hang out in the basement – and they are now back to the drawing board, looking for a living room set. Sansa thinks she wants a proper sitting room with their nicest furniture on display, but she also keeps going back and forth on that and can’t seem to make up her mind. And when it comes to a proper sitting room or not, Jon seems to have absolutely no opinion either way.

 

“This one, mama!” Brandon exclaims, turning towards her and holding a movie case with both hands above his head.

 

Sansa is pleasantly surprised to see that it’s not one of _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ DVDs.

 

“Excellent choice, sweetling,” Sansa smiles and Brandon hugs the Disney _Sword in the Stone_ case to his chest.

 

Sansa imagines future movie nights with more children there to choose which movie they should watch. If hers and Jon’s children will be anything like the Stark children had been when they were younger, Sansa knows that there will be quite a few arguments and fights that she and Jon will have to break up as a result.

 

Jon returns shortly and since it’s such a special day, Sansa suggests that they eat in the family room.

 

She gets plenty of napkins and makes sure all of their soda cups are on coasters and they spread the food out on the coffee table with Ghost and Lady, begging while being smart enough to know that they will be in loads of trouble if they just help themselves to the food in front of them. Jon gets the movie started as Brandon pulls open his Happy Meal, digging for his toy.

 

“Vic!” Brandon exclaims, looking at the plastic toy in the plastic bag. This month, Happy Meals are offering _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ figurine toys and Vic just happens to be Brandon’s favorite character from the cartoon. “Vic! Mama, open!” He hurries around the coffee table to thrust the toy in Sansa’s face as she sits, perched on the edge of the couch cushion.

 

“What do you say, Brandon?” Sansa asks as she takes the toy.

 

“Please, mama!” He says, nearly bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Thank you, mama!” He then exclaims once Sansa has the plastic open and hands him the hippo toy.

 

Sansa smiles and kisses his head before he scurries back to the other side of the coffee. And then, with one hand holding his hippo toy and his other hand holding a chicken nugget, he stands in front of the television, blocking most of Jon and Sansa’s view of the movie.

 

Jon has settled down on the couch next to Sansa, holding the cardboard container while carefully eating his Big Mac with his other hand. With her carton of fries, Sansa settles next to him. She looks at him and smiles.

 

“What?” He wonders, seeming to smile just because she is.

 

“While you were gone, Brandon was picking a movie and it got me imagining movie nights from now on. In just a little bit more time, we’ll have three kids, fighting and all wanting to watch something different,” Sansa says, her smile softening as her eyes become wet.

 

Three kids. They’ll go from one to three in just a matter of months; months that will absolutely fly by.

 

Jon stares at her for a moment and then he leans forward, setting his half-eaten Big Mac down on the coffee table and wiping his fingers on a napkin. He then turns towards Sansa and without a word, he leans in, giving her a gentle kiss on her mouth, a kiss that Sansa can very well read into and know that he is promising her that more will come later tonight, before he lowers his face towards her abdomen and kissing her there next.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!! 
> 
> (I have read so many awesome pregnant Jon/Sansa stories. I have also never personally been pregnant. Therefore, I've decided I'm not going to write out Sansa's entire pregnancy. Just the highlights.)


	5. Act Naturally

…

 

**Five.** Act Naturally.

 

“Jon,” Sansa pants breathlessly in his ear. “Jon,” she moans, her hands gripping his hair and his arms and his back as he pounds her steadily between her thighs.

 

“Sansa,” Jon groans in her ear, his lips sucking patches on her throat and jaw, his breath heavy in her ear.

 

He wants to watch her, but being inside of her, making love to Sansa, it always winds up overwhelming him and most of the time, Jon feels like all he can do is lose himself completely. Kissing her, breathing her in, listening to her moan his name and making it as good for her as he possibly can.

 

She cries out, her hips lifting to his, her back curving from the bed, as he begins to speed up, his hand diving between their bodies to rub at her clit. Jon grunts her name and when she cums, she cries out his name again, Jon feeling her clench around him and Jon can only last for a few more thrusts before he’s cumming himself.

 

He does his best to not collapse on top of her, but Sansa wraps her arms around him, clearly wanting him to, and their sweaty bodies stick together as both try to catch their breath.

 

After a minute, Jon lifts his head and gently brushes his lips across hers. “I love you,” he whispers.

 

Sansa’s smile slowly spreads across her face like pouring honey. “I love you, too,” she says before lifting her head from the pillow and pressing her lips to his in another kiss.

 

Jon gently, reluctantly, slips his body off of hers and rolls onto his back next to her, pushing the hair back from his face. He smiles when Sansa rolls onto her side, tucking herself into his, and her heads rests onto his chest. With his arm around her shoulders, he kisses her on the head.

 

“Are you alright? That wasn’t too hard?” Jon asks.

 

“It can even be a little harder next time if you want,” Sansa says, lifting her head to look at him with a smile.

 

“We’ll see,” is his reply.

 

There’s no way that he will do that with Sansa – not while she’s carrying their babies. He knows that he physically can’t harm the babies while he and Sansa are making love, but he’s not going to push his luck. What if something _does_ happen to one or both of the babies while he and Sansa are _together_? That’s just not a risk he’s going to ever take.

 

“I’ve also been thinking about names,” Sansa continues with her head, once again, back on his chest. “We have a name for a boy and a girl, but I think we should choose another boy and another girl, just in case.”

 

“Definitely. So, if we have two boys… George and Paul?”

 

“Not Maxwell, Max for short?” Sansa teases and then giggles when Jon lets out a laugh.

 

“We’ll both think on that one,” he decides though he has to admit. He doesn’t completely hate the way Max Snow sounds. “And what about if we have two girls? Eleanor and…?”

 

Sansa bites her lip for a moment, which lets Jon know that she already has a name picked out.

 

He squeezes his arm around her shoulders slightly. “Tell me.”

 

“Julia.”

 

Jon sinks his head into the pillow behind his head. “Julia,” he tests it on his tongue in a quiet voice. “Eleanor and Julia Snow.” Jon kisses her head again. “Yeah,” he then says and he can’t see her face, but he can very much hear her smiling. “Fuck, Sansa. I still can’t believe this.”

 

“Me, neither. It almost makes me think…” she begins to say, but then she trails off, not finishing her thought.

 

Jon slowly rolls onto his side, guiding Sansa to lay on her side as well so they face one another. He doesn’t say anything; he just waits for Sansa to continue. Sansa is quiet for another moment and she slips one of her hands to rest between her cheek and the pillow and she smiles as Jon rests his hand in the dip of her hip, moving his body closer to hers.

 

“It makes me think like we’re getting two babies at once to help us make up for lost time,” Sansa admits, her eyes dipping down to look at his chest rather than his eyes. “All those years we were apart, and then I had Brandon… I used to imagine if we were together in all of that time… I would wonder how many children we would have. And when the doctor told us that we’re having twins… I’m scared out of my mind, but at the same time, us having twins, it just sounds right… doesn’t it?”

 

She lifts her eyes to look into his again and Jon is wondering if he’ll ever be able to say anything ever again. He’s also wondering if that’s one of the best things he’s ever heard after Sansa telling him that she loves him and Brandon calling him daddy.

 

He can’t think of anything to say so he slips his hand onto her cheek and kisses her; hard and hungry and swallowing Sansa’s responding moan and then she gasps when he rolls her back onto her back. She then feels him between her thighs and her eyes widen slightly as she looked up at him.

 

“Again?” She asks. “Already?”

 

“I know you don’t mean to be, but your genuine surprise right now is slightly insulting,” Jon informs her.

 

Sansa looks at him for a moment before she has to cover her face with her hands as she begins laughing. And hearing her laugh and seeing her so happy, Jon can’t stop himself from beginning to laugh, too, before Sansa gently grabs hold of his face and pulls him down for a kiss.

 

…

 

Nearly every Friday night, they go four houses down to Arthur and Lyanna’s and nearly every Sunday afternoon, they go to the Stark home. Sansa loves that they have such a close family that always want to spend time with one another, but she likes to imagine the day when her parents and in-laws come to hers and Jon’s house for the afternoon and dinner and the children clambering all over their grandparents for attention.

 

“Remember,” Sansa says to Jon quietly as Brandon – along with Lady and Ghost – run ahead. “Not a word.”

 

“And why can’t we tell them tonight?” Jon asks.

 

“Because, it’s not safe while I’m still in my first trimester. I could still have a miscarriage,” Sansa tells him. Jon frowns and opens his mouth to say something to that, but Sansa stops walking and turns towards him before he can. “The first trimester is a delicate time, Jon. The doctor told us both that, remember?”

 

Jon pauses and then reluctantly nods his head. “I remember.”

 

“And I don’t want everyone celebrating because, I’m not saying it will, but something _could_ happen. And I want to sit Brandon down first and explain everything to him before we tell anyone else.”

 

Jon sighs heavily. “I know,” he says reluctantly. “It’s just… _how_ are we going to hide it? You’re glowing and I can’t stop smiling and you’re wearing a dress that purposely hides your stomach. Your mother is going to take one look at both of us and know.”

 

Sansa frowns a little and looks down to the dress she’s wearing; a dress she’s made herself – grey and white with a high-empire waist so it drops over her middle instead of clinging to anything. She remembers being pregnant with Brandon and how she had been able to mostly hide her bump with large sweatshirts for almost five months. Being pregnant with twins is obviously very different. Three months along now and she already has a small – but obvious – pregnancy bump. 

 

When she had gotten dressed earlier today before coming to her parents’ house, she had to remind herself that this time, she is carrying _two_ babies and she has a feeling that this pregnancy will be nothing like her pregnancy with Brandon. Still though, she doesn’t think this dress makes it obvious that she’s hiding anything. But what if Jon’s right? No one knows her like her mom. Her mom is her best friend and now, she looks towards the house, worried, that all Catelyn Stark will need is one look at her and _know_.

 

“Brandon!” Sansa calls to their son suddenly. “Come back here! We’re going home!”

 

“Sansa, we can’t just go home,” Jon says, cupping her elbows. “Your parents already know we’re here.”

 

Sansa exhales a breath. “Brandon!” She calls out again.

 

“Sansa-” Jon is doing his best to bite back a smile.

 

“You’re right,” Sansa tells him. “My mom knows everything about me and I can’t hide secrets from her. She’ll take one look at me and she’ll _know_ , Jon. We have to go and not come back until I’m further along-”

 

“There you two are!”

 

Both Jon and Sansa’s heads turn to see Catelyn standing on the porch, smiling at them in the driveway, Brandon and the dogs having already disappeared inside.

 

“Is everything okay?” She asks, her smile beginning to slip as the two remain standing in their places.

 

“Of course!” Sansa calls back and Jon nearly cringes at how high and unnatural her voice sounds right now.

 

He gently squeezes his hands around her elbows to silently tell her that. “We’ll be right there, Catelyn!” Jon calls out and is pleased to hear that his voice sounds steady and calm. He then looks back to Sansa. “I thought I was going to be the one blowing our secret today,” he then says to Sansa with a little smile.

 

Sansa does not look amused though. “I am not blowing anything, Jon.”

 

Jon’s smile grows a little bigger. “That’s disappointing,” he murmurs and then lets out a laugh when Sansa promptly slaps him in the chest. He cups the back of her head and kisses her forehead. “Come on.”

 

Jon takes Sansa’s hand and she gives him a small smile as they finally make their way to the Stark house. Catelyn is still standing on the porch and she smiles at them when she sees them coming.

 

“Hello, sweetheart,” Catelyn says, giving Jon a smile and a hug.

 

“Hello,” Jon smiles, hugging her in return.

 

Catelyn then turns her smile and attention onto Sansa. “You look beautiful, love,” she says and puts her arms around Sansa’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

 

Sansa loves getting hugs from her mom. No matter how old she gets, she knows that a hug from her mom will make things just a little bit better.

 

But she’s not going to lie. She has been dreading this moment.

 

With her arms around Catelyn, Sansa holds her lower body back so it doesn’t come in contact with Catelyn’s and she won’t be able to feel the baby bump she and Jon are going to be trying so hard to hide for the next few weeks. It’s awkward, yes, and she knows that it certainly looks awkward – and probably ridiculous – but it’s the only thing she can think to do without completely stepping away from her mom when Catelyn moves into hug her. That will just look even more suspicious and what will Sansa say when Catelyn surely asks her what’s the matter?

 

When the hug ends and they slowly break apart, Sansa can see Jon from the corner of her eye, doing his best to hide the smile pulling at his lips. She nearly slaps him in the chest again, but she is able to control herself, looking to her mother instead.

 

Catelyn is looking at her, not saying anything, but Sansa can see her mom’s eyes grow wet as she continues looking at Sansa and she purses her lips together.

 

“What is it?” Sansa asks, her chest beginning to tighten as she silently pleads with her mom to not ask her anything that Sansa won’t be able to answer; _can’t_ answer because if there’s one thing Sansa is never able to do, it’s lying to her mom.

 

Catelyn looks at her for another moment and then her eyes move to Jon for a moment before back to Sansa and then drifting down towards her stomach that her loose dress is hiding.

 

When she brings her eyes back to Sansa’s, they are glistening with tears that have yet to fall and she’s smiling now, too. When Sansa sees her mother about to cry, she begins to feel her own eyes start to grow bleary with building tears.

 

Catelyn doesn’t say anything though. She gives Sansa a smile and then circles an arm around Sansa’s shoulders, turning them both to the front door. “Now, let’s get a cold drink in your hand and get you off your feet for a bit of a rest, hmmm?”

 

“Oh, I’m alright, mom,” Sansa assures her and she hopes her mom knows that she means that in more ways than one.

 

Catelyn doesn’t say anything to that. She just squeezes her arm and hugs Sansa tightly into her side. She then looks to Jon and takes his hand with her other. She doesn’t say anything or ask anything and after moment, when Jon and Sansa realize that she’s not going to, Jon and Sansa both seem to release sighs of relief at the same time and share a smile.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	6. Your Mother Should Know

…

 

**Six.** Your Mother Should Know.

 

Sansa stands in the bedroom doorway without him noticing, smiling as she listens to him as he plays. It sounds rather elaborate – some sort of world that combines his _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ playset, his train set and the stone hippo in the corner of his bedroom that Jon had gotten him for his third birthday. Some of what he is saying is still toddler gibberish, but it makes Sansa smile all the same. She loves watching Brandon play and listen to the way his imagination works.

 

She admits that she is most nervous about this; more than telling anyone else. She has no idea how Brandon is going to react. There’s already been so many changes in his young life and he’s still getting used to everything – his sleep still inconsistent – and she wonders how he’s going to take this new bit of news; if he’ll even understand fully what it means. She would do anything for Brandon. Absolutely everything. He’s been her whole world for the past four years and she is terrified of how he is going to react now. The last thing she _ever_ wants is her son thinking that he’s being pushed to the side.

 

“Mama!”

 

Brandon sees her and his face explodes in a smile and Sansa smiles, stepping into his bedroom.

 

“What are you playing, sweetling?” She asks as she kneels on the floor beside him.

 

“Vic and Percy are saving the day!” Brandon exclaims happily, holding up his favorite hippo figurine and his favorite train engine, and Sansa smiles at him. “You wanna play, mama?” He then asks.

 

“Of course, I do,” Sansa keeps smiling and Brandon thrusts one of the other trains – James – into her hand.

 

Brandon begins chattering to himself once again and Sansa listens with a smile.

 

“Sweetling?” She speaks after a moment and Brandon lifts his head to look at her. “I love you more than anything in this world. You know that, right?”

 

Brandon’s head bobs up and down in confirmation.

 

“Can you sit with me for a moment?” She asks and then shifts herself off her knees, stretching her legs out, and Brandon, deciding not to stand up, comes and crawls to her. Sansa smiles as he crawls onto her and then settles himself in her lap as Sansa’s arms go around him, her hand brushing still baby-soft hair from his forehead and she kisses him there. “I love you, Brandon,” she tells him.

 

“I love you, mama,” Brandon says and he tilts his head to look up to her face.

 

Sansa smiles at him and wishes that if she told him right now in all of the ways just how important he is to her and all of the ways in which he saved her life, he would understand.

 

But he’s only three – going on four – and if Sansa tells him things like that, his little brow will furrow and he’ll frown in confusion. And even when he’s older, Sansa doesn’t think she’ll be able to tell him. She’s already made the decision to not tell him about Ramsay. Jon has adopted him and he’s Brandon Snow now and Jon is his father in every sense of the word. He never needs to know about the sperm donor who beat his mother so badly and came close to nearly killing her – before the pregnancy stick turned positive and Sansa was able to run because of her baby.

 

Because of _him_.

 

All she can do – and will ever be able to do – is tell him how much she loves him and just hope that he will understand how deep those words go.

 

“Brandon, you know your aunt and uncles? That they’re mama’s sister and brothers?” She asks.

 

Brandon nods. “Yep!” He smiles.

 

Sansa smiles, too. “Do you ever want brothers and sisters?”

 

“Yep!”

 

Sansa’s not sure why she’s surprised when Brandon answers immediately without hesitation on his part.

 

“You do?” Sansa asks.

 

“Yep!” His exclamation is the same. “We be best friends!”

 

Sansa smiles at that; almost laughs. She won’t dare even think of telling him that when she and her siblings were all younger, living under the same roof, they were all far from best friends, but now, all older, Brandon’s very much right. Her siblings have become her very best friends. She knows she can rely on Robb for anything and she and Arya text at least twice a day and despite younger, she thinks Bran gives some of the most helpful advice and Rickon is Rickon and she loves him.

 

She can only hope that Brandon and these two babies have the same kind of relationship with one another.

 

“And if you do have a brother or sister, you won’t mind not being the baby anymore?” Sansa asks.

 

“Nope!” Brandon shakes his head now. “I’m big boy!”

 

_Never to me_ , Sansa thinks, but doesn’t speak it. She easily imagines herself calling Brandon her baby when he’s walking across the stage at high school graduation.

 

“Would you like if daddy and I have a baby?” Sansa asks and she knows that Brandon probably won’t understand the question whatsoever, but she still can’t keep herself from asking. “A baby brother or sister?”

 

_Or both?_ But again, Sansa only thinks that to herself rather than voice it.

 

Brandon begins to frown now and he shakes his head. “I wanna brother or sister,” he reminds her.

 

Sansa smiles and rests her forehead against his for a moment before pulling her head back so they can look fully at one another. “Your brother or sister will be a baby at first. Just like you were. And then they’ll grow bigger, just like you are now. It’d be your job to help me and daddy with your baby brother or sister. Could you do that? Could you help me?”

 

Brandon’s face breaks into a grin once again. “Yes!” He readily promises.

 

Sansa smiles and her eyes feel wet as she wraps her arms around him, holding him close to her chest. “I knew I could count on you, sweetling.”

 

She knows that Brandon still doesn’t fully understand, but at least, he seems to be on board at the _idea_ of being a big brother and honestly, that’s all she can ask for at the moment. He’s three. He is still in the throes of toddler tantrums whenever one strikes his fancy. She can’t expect it to go perfectly over the next few months and she’s not expecting it to.

 

She can only hope that the Snow family can get through these next few months as in tact as possible.

 

…

 

“Love,” Jon speaks to her gently as if she’s frightened animal about to make a bolt for it. “You’ve already fluffed that pillow.”

 

Sansa promptly picks up the pillow from the couch and throws it right at his face. “I will fluff if I want to fluff, Jon!” She snaps at him and then exhales a deep sigh.

 

Jon, having caught the pillow, is smart enough to not smile right now at the ridiculousness that is his wife and he simply goes to return the pillow to the couch. He then goes to her and puts his arms around her waist, bringing her body to his. “Everything will be fine,” he simply tells her because he can’t think of a single reason as to why it won’t be.

 

Sansa exhales again and she closes her eyes, her hands holding onto his arms. “I’m nervous.”

 

_No shit_ is on the tip of his tongue, but he thankfully is able to swallow those words before he can speak them.

 

“Can you tell me why?” He asks instead.

 

Sansa’s eyes blink open to look at him. “I don’t know how everyone is going to react and I don’t know… I just don’t know anything right now.”

 

One of Jon’s hands sweeps up her back to cup the back of her neck and he gently pulls her in closer, his lips finding a resting spot on her forehead. “They’re going to be so happy for us, Sansa,” he tells her against her forehead. “I promise. Everyone is going to be so happy.”

 

_DING! DONG!_

The doorbell echoes through the house and Jon slowly removes his lips.

 

“Everything is going to be fine, Sansa. I promise,” he tells her, staring at her, willing her to believe him. “And if it’s not, we’ll still have each other, right?”

 

Sansa exhales another breath and nods her head. “Always.”

 

_DING! DONG!_

Jon gives her a soft kiss on her lips before leaving her to go open the front door. Brandon, Ghost and Lady are in the fenced-in backyard and they are going to leave them all out there for the time being – not that any are asking to be come back inside. Their backyard here is much larger than at their previous home and all three – both boy and dogs – would spend hours outside if permitted to. Jon has already made plans on building Brandon a playground set that will befit their new backyard. For the moment though, the boy seems perfectly happy chasing after the dogs – and the dogs chasing after him.

 

Ned, Catelyn, Lyanna and Arthur all arrive within minutes of each other, all hugging Jon and Sansa, the mothers flanking Sansa on either side, asking her how she is feeling and has she had cravings yet and how is the morning sickness and Lyanna wants to know if her son is being helpful to her because if he’s not, Lyanna will have a thing or two to say about it.

 

“Hey!” Jon exclaims, having overheard.

 

“He’s being wonderful, I promise,” Sansa assures her mother-in-law with a smile.

 

They walk down the hall to the back of the house, Jon asking if anyone wants anything to drink while telling them that the pizza will be delivered in about fifteen more minutes.

 

They told their parents – officially – about the pregnancy the weekend before and had been smothered with hugs and kisses and tears of joy and tonight is the night they are going to break the news of it being twins. Jon doesn’t know why Sansa is so nervous, but he just knows that she is. If Jon knows both sets of parents – and he likes to think that he does – there is going to be a lot of crying and screaming with joy tonight.

 

“Would anyone like anything to drink?” Jon asks as Sansa ushers their parents towards the family room.

 

Jon gets cans of Coke and glasses of water and brings everything into the family room to join everyone. Catelyn and Lyanna have sat side-by-side on the L-shaped couch and Arthur has claimed a spot on that couch as well. Ned has settled himself into the loveseat. Jon knows that once the pizza arrives, Ned will ask if they can put the rugby match on and it seems as if the man is getting himself comfortable.

 

Sansa is looking out the large back window, watching Brandon and their two dogs, and she turns her head to look at Jon as he comes to stand at her side. She gives him a small smile; one Jon is able to easily match.

 

“Ready?” He asks.

 

Sansa nods, the smile still on her face, and Jon sees her smiling and it just makes him keep smiling, too.

 

“So, Jon and I got ultrasound pictures at our doctor’s appointment and we made sure to get you copies too,” Sansa tells them all and Jon takes the two envelopes they have sitting on the coffee table and hands them to Catelyn and Lyanna, both women practically tearing into their envelopes and Jon puts his arm around Sansa’s shoulders, pulling her into his side.

 

They wait.

 

Catelyn and Lyanna both look down at their individual ultrasound pictures and Arthur leans in close to look over Lyanna’s shoulder even though he’s never seen an ultrasound and is unsure of what he’s looking at exactly. Ned simply waits for his wife to look her fill before handing it over to him.

 

Jon can feel Sansa slightly stiff beside him, waiting, and Jon finds himself holding his breath, wondering which mother is going to see it first.

 

Catelyn then gasps sharply.

 

Apparently, Catelyn is the first, but his own mother isn’t close behind, her hand flying to cover her mouth. And when she lifts her head to look at Jon, she already has tears shimmering in her eyes.

 

“Are you…” Catelyn begins to speak, her chin beginning to tremble. “Truly?” She asks her daughter.

 

Sansa’s own eyes are flooding with tears, but she is smiling as she nods. “Truly. Twins.”

 

 “What?” Ned exclaims, shooting right to his feet, his eyes widened to an almost comical size.

 

“See?” Lyanna says to Arthur and points to little spots on the picture. “One. Two. Two separate sacs.”

 

“Fraternal twins,” Arthur says in a hush, staring down at the picture – though honestly, he still can’t really see anything – and his eyes fillings with tears.

 

Ned is the first to go to them and he puts his arms around them both, engulfing Jon and Sansa in a crushing hug. Sansa lets out a laugh amidst a sob and she hugs her father tightly in return.

 

“Not too tight now,” Ned advises her and she laughs again.

 

And then all of the other parents get to their feet and Jon is hugged so many times by the four of them, he loses track of who exactly is hugging him. When his mom pulls him into her arms for yet another hug, she is crying, and Jon smiles and holds her; from the corner of his eye, seeing that Catelyn and Sansa are crying together, too, and then Catelyn pulls back, putting her hands on either side of Sansa’s growing bump.

 

“Yes, we have names picked out already so when we find out the sexes, we’ll be all set,” Sansa is saying.

 

“Have you told anyone else?” Arthur asks.

 

“Sansa told Brandon as much as she could,” Jon answers. “And we wanted to tell you before we told anyone else. We’ll probably tell everyone now as we see them.”

 

“And what about your job?” Catelyn asks Sansa.

 

Jon looks to Sansa, waiting to hear how she’ll respond. He has told her – more than once – that he wants to be able to take care of her and their family and if she wants to keep working at the university library, of course he is going to be fine with that, but he would also be perfectly fine – more than fine – if she decides that she would like to stay at home with their children.

 

He hasn’t talked with her about it recently though. He figures that Sansa knows what he thinks, but the decision is entirely her own to make.

 

“I’m going to be talking with Nan about it on Monday,” Sansa says. “I still haven’t made a firm decision…” she looks to Jon then – as if she’s waiting for him to say something on the matter.

 

Jon just gives her a small smile and a slight shrug. “Completely your call, love. And I doubt Nan is going to make you make a decision this very second.”

 

“Of course she won’t,” Ned agrees.

 

_DING! DONG!_

 

The doorbell rings again.

 

“I’ll get it,” Jon says.

 

“You will not,” Arthur steps in front of him before he can. “I just found out my son is having twins.”

 

“Well, technically, Sansa is the one who will be physically having them,” Jon gives his stepdad a grin.

 

“And _I_ will be paying for the pizza,” Arthur finishes, already taking his wallet from his back pocket.

 

“You will not. _I_ am going to be paying for them,” Ned says, also taking out his wallet.

 

The two men then don’t actually break out into a run, but they might as well have for as quickly as they move then, trying to beat one another down the hallway to the front door.

 

Lyanna is back to sitting on the couch, crying as she looks over the ultrasound once again, and Jon sits down next to her.

 

“Happy?” He asks her though he knows he doesn’t have to.

 

Lyanna gives a mixture of a laugh and a sob then and she turns to Jon, putting her arms around him, tugging him into an impossibly tight hug.

 

“Oh, Jon,” she whispers and Jon feels his own eyes begin to sting.

 

He knows what she’s thinking of because he’s thinking of the same thing, too; him lying in a hospital bed, banged up and wrapped up and missing a kidney and at his absolute rock bottom to being here now – married to the love of his life with this home and a son with another two babies on the way. He had almost died, but he is here now and there’s nowhere else in the world he would rather be – especially when he looks at Sansa and she’s already looking at him with a smile on her face.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	7. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There have become too many characters in this story and I don't think I'm doing a good job, juggling all of them. I'm not crazy about this chapter, but I hope some of you like it. Thank you!

…

 

**Seven.** Birthday.

 

“Please don’t cry, Sansa. Please, love,” Jon pleads with her, kneeling on the floor in front of her as Sansa sits on the side of their bed, crying and gasping for air. “I’ll handle everything. I promise.”

 

Sansa just continues to cry and she shakes her head rapidly back and forth. “You can’t. You don’t know what to do,” she says, nearly wailing.

 

“Then you’ll tell me and I promise that everything will get done in time.”

 

“I’m a terrible mother,” Sansa weeps, her voice shaking.

 

“What?” Jon shakes his head and pushes himself up so his face is more even with hers. “Sansa, you’re the best mother in the world. You’re better than _our_ mothers – though don’t ever tell them that.”

 

“He’s turning four, Jon,” Sansa lifts her head so she can look into his eyes with her red-stained ones. “Brandon is only going to turn four once and I’m not able to do anything for it!”

 

“Sansa, hey.” Jon lifts his hands to her soaked cheeks and brushes hair back from her face. “I will take care of it, I promise. And it’s going to be the best police-themed birthday party for a four year old ever. I promise that, too. You’re pregnant. You’re carrying two babies and you’re tired. Everyone understands that.”

 

Sansa just shakes her head though. “Brandon won’t. I’m his mother. I’m supposed to give him amazing birthday parties no matter what.”

 

“Sansa,” Jon says her name then and it almost sounds as if he’s trying to keep himself from smiling. “Stop making yourself upset. You know what the doctor said about keeping things calm and stress free.”

 

Sansa snorts at that as more tears form in her eyes and Jon pushes himself up to press a kiss to her forehead.

 

“Give me a list and I’ll make sure it gets done,” he tells her quietly.

 

She hesitates. “I had plans-”

 

“And I will do my best to not muck all of those plans up,” Jon gently interjects with a small smile.

 

Sansa looks at him for a moment and then her own small smile graces her lips. Jon is fairly certain he’s never seen anything more beautiful than that. He gives her another kiss then – on the lips this time – because he can’t let this moment pass them by _without_ kissing her.

 

“Alright,” she finally agrees with a sigh and Jon gives her a grin.

 

He stands up from the floor and then helps Sansa stand as well. She’s gotten so much bigger; one morning during her fifth month and both waking up to find that the bump had grown and only seems to grow more with each day. The babies have also begun to move – and yet, they have both decided to hide themselves whenever there is an ultrasound appointment, making it difficult to learn their sexes; as if both babies know what their parents and the doctor want of them and they will have no part of it.

 

And while Sansa will cry at the drop of a hat nowadays over anything and everything – this morning had been about her ankles and how she’s having the hardest time shaving her legs – Jon still finds her to be the most beautiful woman in the world; his wife and the mother of his children. The least he can do for her is put Brandon’s birthday party together and offer to shave her legs for her.

 

“At least I’ve already ordered the cake,” Sansa says, more to herself, as she leaves their bedroom, Jon following after her.

 

Downstairs, Sansa goes to the counter in their kitchen that has been turned into a desk. Their desktop computer is set up there along with all of their mail and bills. Sansa sifts through some papers now and when she turns towards Jon again, she holds out a piece of yellow paper for him to take.

 

Jon takes it and his eyes scan down the list. For Brandon’s third birthday party last year, he had wanted pirates and Sansa had gone all out, researching for hours on Pinterest to give her son the best possible pirate-themed birthday party possible. And she had certainly done just that.

 

Jon is expecting more of the same for this year and Brandon’s chosen theme of police.

 

He lifts his eyes to Sansa and doesn’t ask anything, but Sansa seems to know what question he has anyway.

 

“I know it looks easy,” she begins to tell him.

 

“I’m not fooled,” Jon smiles a little. “But is this really it for food?” He remembers Sansa’s food spread at Brandon’s last birthday party.

 

“I asked him what he wanted and this is what he said,” Sansa says. “And I remember last year that even with all of those people, we still had quite a bit of leftovers. This year, I thought I could keep the food simple.”

 

That makes Jon’s smile grow. “I can handle simple.”

 

“But we still need decorations, Jon,” Sansa says and Jon’s eyes go back to the paper.

 

His smile begins to fade as he looks over everything that Sansa has written down to give their son the best fourth police-themed birthday party that he could ever ask for.

 

_Shit_ , Jon sighs to himself.

 

He lifts his head when Sansa goes to her purse and pulls out her cell phone.

 

“Who are you calling?” Jon asks.

 

 “Reinforcements,” is all she says as she begins scrolling through her contacts.

 

And Jon wants to protest. He’s a grown man and he’s more than capable of buying decorations for a four-year-old’s birthday party. But then he imagines the amount Sansa will cry if _anything_ goes wrong with Brandon’s party and maybe having some help from others isn’t the worst, most insulting thing in the world.

 

…

 

“Sansa called _you_?” Jon asks in disbelief when Robb and Rickon find him in the party store an hour later.

 

Robb gives him a grin. “She didn’t say it in so many words, but Sansa clearly thinks you’re an idiot.”

 

“The _biggest_ ,” Rickon amends with his own grin.

 

He would expect Margaery or Arya or even Catelyn and his own mother. Maybe Sansa did call all of them and Robb and Rickon were the only ones who could make it.

 

Jon frowns at them both and thrusts the piece of paper into Robb’s hand. “This is ridiculous.”

 

Robb snorts. “Have you just met Sansa?” He takes a moment to look over everything Sansa has written down. “Alright. Rickon, first stop. Piñatas.”

 

“Yessss,” Rickon pumps one of his fists and turns, leading the way. In Rickon’s opinion, anything that can be beaten with a stick that causes candy to explode to the ground is the best way to make a party awesome. He doesn’t care how old he is.

 

“Did Sansa say which piñata to get?” Jon asks, taking the paper back from Robb.

 

“Well, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say _not_ the ladybug one or the one shaped like the sun.”

 

“Don’t be a smartass,” Jon frowns at his brother-in-law and best friend.

 

Robb just grins.

 

“ _Anything_ is setting Sansa off nowadays and I would like to avoid that as much as possible,” Jon continues. “She’s convinced that Brandon is going to remember this one day for the rest of his life and if he’s in therapy when he’s an adult, it will be all of her fault because his fourth birthday party wasn’t absolutely perfect.”

 

That gets a snort from Robb. “Sounds like she’s still exactly the same, knocked up or not.”

 

“That one,” Rickon is already telling one of the party store employees, pointing to a piñata hanging from the ceiling along with at least two dozen others.

 

Jon sees that it’s Chester the Cheetah from _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ , dressed in his police officer uniform, and Jon sighs with relief. A police officer from Brandon’s favorite cartoon? He has no doubt Sansa would have chosen the same one. He asks the employee if he can borrow a pen and he more than happily crosses piñata from the list before looking to what else is needed.

 

Candy for the piñata, streamers, party favors, bags for the party favors, hats, plates and cups… All decorations with a police theme, of course.

 

Even though he wishes Sansa, herself, was here, Jon is glad that she was wise enough to call help for him – even if that help is Robb and Rickon and Jon can’t imagine that any of them have Sansa’s flair for being able to throw a themed party. At least he’s not alone so if he _does_ muck this up, it’s not solely his fault.

 

But Jon is determined to not screw this up in any way whatsoever – and it’s not just the prospect of making Sansa burst into tears that is motivation. He doesn’t want to disappoint Brandon either.

 

It hasn’t been too bad yet, but Jon knows that it very well possibly will be. Sansa is having a baby shower thrown for her by both of their mothers in a couple of months and then the twins will be here and all of the attention will be on them. Brandon is used to having all of that attention on him and neither Jon or Sansa want Brandon to think that they don’t love him or that he’s not important to them anymore. But they also both know that the boy feeling like that is somewhat inevitable.

 

Jon wants to make sure that Brandon has an awesome fourth birthday before that happens.

 

Seriously though, Jon frowns down at Sansa’s list. What the hell are police themed streamers?

 

…

 

Sansa watches as Brandon with his two closest friends from the university daycare center – Alaric and Victoria –and his best friend, Little Sam, eat their Detective Dogs (hot dogs) and Cop Corn (popcorn) at the small table set up for them while eagerly chattering over their little bags of party favors, showing off their plastic police badges and plastic handcuffs as well as blowing from their new bottles of bubbles.

 

It’s certainly a bit more low key when compared to Brandon’s birthday party last year. Less food, not as many decorations – though Sansa thinks Jon decorated their kitchen and family room wonderfully with blue and yellow streamers and blue and yellow balloons – and even with the same people who had come last year, plus Sam, Gilly, Arthur and Lyanna, it seems somehow even calmer than last year.

 

She watches the children and sees how much fun they are having – how happy Brandon is – and tears begin brimming in her eyes.

 

“Oh Gods,” Jon suddenly sighs from beside her. “It’s all awful, isn’t it? I bought the wrong bags or something, didn’t I? I didn’t want to overdo it on Chester the Cheetah, but he’s from _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ and I couldn’t _not_ buy the things with his character plastered all over them-”

 

His words are suddenly cut off with Sansa taking his face in between her hands and kissing him.

 

“It’s perfect,” she whispers to him once their lips part. “Everything. It’s perfect, Jon.”

 

She almost laughs when Jon smiles at that, obviously pleased with himself, and with his hands resting on either side of her large bump – though Sansa thinks she can hardly call it a bump anymore – Jon leans in and kisses her again.

 

“I’m sorry I thought you couldn’t do this,” Sansa says.

 

“Yeah, that was a little hurtful,” Jon replies, but he does so with a smile and it makes Sansa smile, too. “It’s important to me, too. And I know you’re still getting used to having someone help you, but you do. You have me and every year from now on until all of our kids turn eighteen, I will help with their birthday parties.”

 

He had thought Sansa would smile at that as well, but instead, she begins to frown.

 

“Are we going to kick our kids out of the house as soon as they turn eighteen?” She asks.

 

Jon’s brow furrows. “Huh?”

 

“Are we going to force them to find their own way in the world even if they’re not ready and close the door on their behinds and never invite them back as soon as they turn eighteen?”

 

“Wait…” Jon tries to catch up. “What?”

 

He used to think he was pretty good at reading Sansa’s mind and understanding her train of thoughts, but then they got pregnant… Now, it’s a whole different game; one he still doesn’t understand the rules to.

 

Before he can guess – probably poorly – as to what exactly is upsetting Sansa _now_ , a sudden siren comes from outside, making everyone jump at the unexpectedness and closeness of it – Ghost and Lady barking in the backyard –followed by a heavy knock on the door a moment later.

 

Arthur smiles. “Shall we see who it is, birthday boy?”

 

And though Brandon has no idea what is going on, he gasps and hurries away from the table, Arthur following after him and Jon and Sansa following them both. Arthur pulls open the front door and an uniformed police officer is standing on the front porch, his Wintertown police squad car parked in the driveway.

 

“Good afternoon. I’m looking for Officer Brandon Snow,” the officer says and then looks down to the boy. “I see you’re wearing your police badge. Are you Officer Brandon Snow?”

 

“I am! I am!” Brandon exclaims at the top of his lungs, practically bouncing.

 

Jon has pulled out his phone and begins recording; having absolutely no idea that Arthur was planning anything like this, but loving that he had.

 

“I was wondering if you and your friends would want to come for a ride in the squad car with me,” the officer continues, smiling at Brandon’s enthusiasm.

 

“Yes!” Brandon shouts.

 

“Go get your coat, sweetling,” Sansa smiles at him, tears in her eyes, and as Brandon and the other children scurry to get their shoes and coats on with help from their parents – and in Brandon’s case, his grandmothers, Sansa hugs Jon and Arthur and though she doesn’t even know him, she hugs the officer as well, crying over all of them.

 

“Show off,” Ned gives Arthur a grin as the four children run out of the house and right to the squad car.

 

“Can you go with them?” Sansa asks Jon. “I would love you to record it.”

 

“You got it,” Jon smiles at her and then goes to get his own coat.

 

“You are so, so wonderful and I’m so sorry for doubting you,” Sansa says when he comes back. “I’ll never doubt you and your ability to throw a birthday party ever again.”

 

Jon smiles and gives Sansa a kiss on the lips and heads down the steps of the porch, meeting up with Arthur, Ned and the officer, standing in the driveway and watching the kids all excitedly explore the squad car before their ride. “Thank you so much for this,” he says to Arthur. “I said something and Sansa was about to burst into tears and not the good kind so also,” he looks to the officer. “Perfect timing.”

 

The officer gives a grin at that and Ned and Arthur both chuckle.

 

“Thinks you were behind this, does she?” Arthur asks, his eyes twinkling with his smile.

 

“Yes, so if we just continue with the fabrication of that, I would really appreciate it,” Jon tells them all.

 

…


	8. Things We Said Today

…

 

**Eight.** Things We Said Today.

 

“Daddy?”

 

Jon’s eyes snap open as soon as he hears the word – whether his brain is actually awake or not. He blinks a few times to get his eyes to focus and then he sees Brandon standing at the side of the couch – still in his pajamas and hugging his stuffed wolf, Moe, and he’s looking at Jon with a frown.

 

“Hey, Little Snow,” Jon says and then brings his hand to his mouth as he lets out a yawn, his eyes closing against momentarily before blinking them open and keeping them set on Brandon. “You come down here by yourself?” He asks and then listens for Sansa in the kitchen, but he doesn’t hear anything.

 

Brandon nods, still looking at him with a frown. “You’re sleeping on the couch,” he then points out.

 

Jon allows himself a small smile. “Yes, I am,” he confirms and then slowly, sits up, letting out another yawn. The family room is gray with the dawn and reaching out, Jon hits the button on his phone to see what time it is. Just a little bit after six. Time for him to wake up anyway.

 

“ _Why_ are you sleeping on the couch?” Brandon asks.

 

Jon gives him another small smile. “Honestly? I was annoying mommy,” Jon says and Brandon giggles a little at that. “Want some breakfast?” He asks then without expanding any further on why he’s on the couch.

 

“Yep,” Brandon bobs his head.

 

“Alright. Let’s get some breakfast.” Jon says and drops another kiss on Brandon’s head before pulling himself from the couch to his feet. Ghost, always the loyal companion, has spent the night with him, on the floor next to the couch. He gets up now, too, and follows after as Jon and Brandon go into the kitchen.

 

Jon goes to the refrigerator for the carton of eggs and debates with himself whether or not to go upstairs and see if Sansa is awake. Of course, if she isn’t, the last thing he wants to do is wake her up and get her even more pissed at him. Last night, somehow, he had messed up. No, not somehow. He knows exactly how he had messed up. He’s just still trying to figure out exactly _why_ he had managed it.

 

It had been all innocent – but Jon should know by now that there is _nothing_ innocent when it comes to his wife, seven months pregnant with their twins and more than ready to just not be pregnant anymore; though if she’s not pregnant anymore, that means they have two screaming newborns – which Jon can’t wait for, but considering how he handles a pregnant Sansa, Jon doesn’t know if he’s ready yet, to handle babies.

 

He thinks he’s going to be complete crap at it, to be honest, but he hasn’t talked with Sansa about that. She’ll probably burst into tears and interpret his words as him not wanting these babies at all.

 

So Jon keeps his thoughts to himself and tries to convince himself that there are plenty of guys who are completely clueless with babies. He’s no one special and he’ll figure it out.

 

He makes Brandon his breakfast – one fried egg and a small bowl of blueberries – and he helps the boy sit down in his booster chair at the table and once he makes sure that Brandon is actually eating – and not just feeding everything to Ghost, Jon goes about making himself breakfast: toast and three fried eggs.

 

He doesn’t dare make coffee. Their OB/GYN, Dr. Luwin, has told Sansa that she can have a small amount of coffee now, if she wishes, but Sansa still won’t drink it. She has never been a big coffee drinker except for her cappuccinos and she thinks it would be cruel to herself to tease herself with just a small amount when she’d much rather drink a whole gallon. So Jon has gotten to buying himself jugs of cold coffee to keep near the back of the refrigerator – so Sansa won’t be tempted with those – and he buys himself cups of hot coffee when he goes to a jobsite for the day.

 

He sits down at the table with Brandon with his cold coffee and plate of breakfast and Brandon gives him a smile – his mouth stuffed with blueberries and his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk – and Jon grins at that.

 

Margaery had asked Sansa if she and Jon would like to go out to dinner with her and Robb in the next few days and though on the phone, Sansa had pleasantly told her friend with a smile, “That sounds so lovely!”, off of the phone, Sansa had nearly burst into tears.

 

“Love,” Jon had done his best to console her. “I’m sure Margaery and Robb don’t mean somewhere fancy. You can wear your maternity jeans and a sweatshirt. I’ll tell them we just want to go out for pizza.”

 

Sansa had just kept crying as she stood in front of their closet, looking forlornly at the dresses she wouldn’t be able to wear for a bit more of time and then looking at her maternity dresses. “Circus tents” she calls them. Jon had come and put his arms around her, kissing her temple.

 

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Sansa Snow,” he told her. “And our babies will be here before you even know it.”

 

“That’s easy for you to say. _You’re_ not the one carrying them,” Sansa sniffled and then looked at Jon with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m as fat as a manatee, Jon,” she had said miserably.

 

Jon kissed her softly on the lips. “I happen to love manatees.”

 

Too late, he had realized his mistake.

 

A warning siren had gone off in his head as Sansa stared at him, her eyes narrowing. _Warning! Warning!_

“I-”

 

“So you think I _am_ fat like a manatee,” she had nearly hissed at him.

 

Hence, his campout on the couch for the night.

 

He knows Sansa is hormonal and uncomfortable and her body is aching and she can’t find a position at night to sleep in for more than an hour before she has to shift and the babies are not making this easy on her. Jon knows all of that and can’t even imagine how wretched she probably feels all of the time and he can’t exactly blame her if she _does_ hate him right now. He’s terrible at this. The first time she was pregnant, she had gone through everything nearly on her own – whether her parents were there or not – and Jon had promised her that this time, he was going to be at her side for everything.

 

But now, at her side, he feels like he’s just making everything that much more terrible for her.

 

He feels completely inept and out of his depth and Sansa would be that much better without him.

 

“Mama!” Brandon exclaims then, breaking Jon from his thoughts, and Jon can’t help, but stiffen slightly. He wonders how pissed Sansa still is.

 

Finally, he turns in his chair to see Sansa entering the kitchen from the hallway, Lady, her loyal companion, at her side. Jon wonders if Sansa enjoyed sleeping next to the dog more than she does when it’s him in bed.

 

Sansa is dressed, wearing black leggings and a grey and white flannel shirt. Her hair is brushed and in a braid pulled over her shoulder. She looks beautiful. And as tired as he is, Sansa looks just as tired. But still, she’s the most beautiful woman – person – Jon has ever laid eyes.

 

And he can’t even tell her that. She won’t believe him and when he tries to assure her and convince her, he’ll say something that she will be insulted by and there’s nothing he can say to her right now that will help her. Anytime he opens his mouth, he just seems to remind her how terrible a mistake marrying him was.

 

She smiles as she comes to the table. “Good morning, sweetling,” she says and leans over to kiss his head.

 

“Would you like something to eat?” Jon asks, already standing up.

 

Sansa straightens as well and gives him a small smile. “I think I’m just going to have some juice,” she says.

 

“At least have a piece of toast,” Jon says.

 

She hesitates for a moment and then gives a slight nod. “A piece of toast sounds good.”

 

Jon goes to get the bread on the counter and he pops two slices into the toaster. He hears Sansa behind him, getting the orange juice from the refrigerator, and then getting a mug from the cabinet. Although Sansa can’t drink coffee, she likes to drink from the mug as if she can.

 

Jon doesn’t try to make conversation with her. He doesn’t know what to say and even if he does, he’s certain it would be the wrong thing and make her cry or furious again. Jon wonders if he can get through the next two months with only talked to his wife in monosyllabic answers.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Jon startles – both at Sansa saying anything to him and from the toast popping up.

 

“You didn’t do anything,” Jon says, turning to take a plate down from the cabinet, still without looking at her.

 

“Yes, I did, Jon. I’m biting your head off over every little thing and I think it’s a miracle that you just haven’t packed up and left already, to be honest. I’ve been so awful to you.”

 

“You’re pregnant, Sansa, and I’m the idiot who can’t do anything right,” Jon says and goes to the refrigerator to get the jar of strawberry jam and he grabs the carton of orange juice on the way to return it to the shelf in the door. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no idea what I can do to help you. I just know that when I _do_ try to help you, I make things even worse.” He finally turns to look at her, seeing that she’s looking at him, too, and she looks so sad. Jon should be used to her looking like that. He feels like she’s been looking like that for the past few months of this pregnancy and there’s nothing he can do to change that.

 

“Jon,” Sansa takes a step towards him. “I’ve been so awful and I’ve been treating you like my punching bag because I think that that will make me feel better and you… you’ve been so wonderful, just letting me.”

 

Jon swallows. He doesn’t think anything he’s done is anywhere remotely close to wonderful, but he’s no longer going to be an idiot. No matter what Sansa says anymore, he’s not going to argue – at least while she’s pregnant. Maybe though when she’s not, too. He just wants them all happy.

 

“And no matter how awful I am to you,” Sansa sniffles. “You stay.”

 

She whispers the last two words, but Jon hears her loud and clear.

 

Slowly, he closes the space between them and he lifts his hands, putting them on her cheeks. Sansa looks into his eyes and he looks into hers and he gives her a small smile.

 

“Marry me?” He asks and he smiles when Sansa lets out a laugh.

 

It’s not the first time, by far, that he’s asked her that and it won’t be the last by any means.

 

“Yes,” she answers, laughter still in her voice. “And I have to tell you something really important.” Jon’s face is slowly moving closer to hers and he pauses for her to finish. “I love manatees, too.”

 

Jon’s face splits into a grin and Sansa laughs again before he closes the rest of the small space and kisses her.

 

“I don’t want to screw this all up, Sansa,” Jon says to her softly then.

 

“You can’t possibly,” Sansa assures him with a shake of her head. “You’re here. That’s all I need. _We_ need.”

 

Jon exhales a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere,” he swears. “Leaving our family has never even crossed my mind no matter how much you scare me.” He rests his forehead against her and closes his eyes, breathing her in. He suddenly pulls back. “Oh, also, I promise to never mention any marine animals around you ever again. Even after the babies are here. Even if the topic of conversation is marine animals. I’m never talking about them again.”

 

“What if Brandon wants to go to the aquarium?” Sansa asks, laughing.

 

Brandon, overhearing from giving Ghost and Lady both some blueberries, turns in his chair with a gasp. “We’re going to the aquarium?” He asks, his voice rising in volume at just the word.

 

Sansa looks at Jon, smiling. “Now you’ve done it.”

 

“Me? You’re the one who actually said the word. For once, you’re the one who’s foot went into their mouth.”

 

Sansa promptly pinches Jon for that. “You might want to be more careful or you’ll be spending another night on the couch,” she informs him.

 

“You can’t scare me, Sansa Snow,” Jon teases.

 

“I suppose I should try harder then.”

 

“No, please don’t,” Jon replies, slightly panicked, and Sansa just laughs – which, Jon admits, does nothing to help him relax again.

 

It’s not like he’s counting down because, as he likes to remind himself, that will mean that the babies will be here and his ineptness will be highlighted even more, but at times like this, he likes to remind himself.

 

Just two more months of pregnant Sansa, give or take.

 

…


	9. In My Life

…

 

**Nine.** In My Life.

Jon leans forward on the bench, smoking his cigarette, and when he sees someone approaching from the corner of his eye, he lifts his head. When he sees her, he exhales a heavy breath and gets to his feet.

 

“Thank you for coming,” he says.

 

“That’s a stupid thing to thank me for,” Osha smiles at him and stepping in close, she hugs him and Jon hugs her in return, smiling a little at her response. “You hungry? Want to go inside?” She glances towards the diner they’re standing in front of before back to him.

 

Jon looks to the diner as well before to Osha. “Do you mind if we just walk for a bit?” He asks.

 

Osha doesn’t give an answer. She loops her arm through Jon’s and gives him another smile.

 

They walk away from the diner and begin heading down the sidewalk.

 

Jon keeps smoking his cigarette as Osha looks to the shops in downtown Wintertown they walk past.

 

“It’s good you’re smoking,” Osha then comments, turning her head once more back to him.

 

Jon nods and doesn’t say anything to that. When it comes to his smoking, it’s not often, but when he does light a cigarette, everyone is always happy to see him do that because the alternative is him holding a beer bottle in his hand.

 

“Do you want to tell me _why_ you’re smoking?” She asks. “Or did you just call me for a walk together?”

 

Jon is quiet at first. He exhales and taps the collected ash from the cigarette onto the sidewalk. He sees a bench up ahead and he guides Osha there, both sitting, Osha turning more towards him, still waiting silently for him to say the reason as to why he’s called his sponsor.

 

“Sansa and I saw the babies today,” Jon begins, leaning forward again, looking at his cigarette rather than at Osha though he can feel her eyes settled on him. “It’s a boy and girl.”

 

Osha’s smile is instant. “So, no Max this time,” she jokes and gets a little smile out of Jon. Osha slides closer to Jon on the bench and her hand squeezes his shoulder. “That’s wonderful, Jon. Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you,” he said, still staring at the cigarette, almost burned down to the butt now. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I find out that my wife is healthy and we’re having a healthy son and daughter and my first thought is that I really need a beer. I’m screwing things up and the babies aren’t even here yet and I’m tempted to tell Sansa to take herself and Brandon back to her parents and leave me because I’m no good for her. Any guy who needs a beer after hearing the news that I heard today, he doesn’t deserve a family.”

 

Osha’s hand is still on his shoulder and she gives it another squeeze. “Wouldn’t that be up to Sansa?”

 

Jon exhales a great sigh and then shakes his head. “Sansa loves me. She’ll never leave.”

 

“What an absolutely awful woman!” Osha exclaims with mock outrage.

 

“Don’t joke, Osha,” Jon says quietly, staring down at the ground and shaking his head.

 

“I’m not, Jon,” Osha tells him. “I’m being serious. You have a wife who loves and supports you and knows everything about you and still wants to be with you. So, you’re scared. So, what? I guarantee you’re not the first bloke to ever be scared at the looming arrival of fatherhood.”

 

“I shouldn’t be scared though,” Jon argues. “I should be the happiest guy in the world. I’m married to the only girl I’ve ever loved. I have this awesome kid with two more on the way. I have a good job, a nice house. I have _everything_ and I’m still sitting here, away from my family, smoking, wishing it was something else.”

 

Osha is quiet – as if letting all of that settle in her brain. And then, very quietly, she says, “I’m sorry you’re scared. Have you tried and talked with Sansa about this?”

 

She’s not surprised in the least when he shakes his head.

 

“Sansa has enough to worry and think about right now than her alcoholic husband having a relapse.”

 

Osha slides towards him across the bench, closing the space between them, and he puts his arm around his shoulders. “You know what I’m going to say and you already knew what I was going to say to you when you called.” She states rather than asks and Jon doesn’t refute that. “Jon, you can _always_ call me. You know that. And I will _always_ come. But when it comes to your fears of being a dad, that is one instance where you might be better talking with Sansa.”

 

“I can’t,” Jon shakes his head. “Sansa will…” he exhales deeply. “Sansa will blame herself and waste time worrying about me and stressing herself over me and I _can’t_ let her do that to herself and the babies.”

 

He stands up to stub the cigarette butt out in the complimentary cigarette trash that Wintertown has next to each trashcan. When he turns back to Osha, she is just finishing a text and she puts her phone away again.

 

“I’m sorry. I know you probably have somewhere else to be-”

 

“Shut up,” Osha tells him bluntly as she stands up from the bench as well.

 

Jon nearly smiles.

 

This is why, years ago, at one of his first AA meetings and he was told to get himself a sponsor, he knew that Osha would be the perfect one for him. She doesn’t mince words. She’s blunt and honest and when his body is physically shaking for a drink, she’s just the person he needs to smack him out of it.

 

But she’s right. This is past her depth. Osha doesn’t know anything about becoming a father – for more than one reason. Yes, he’s been wanting a beer and that’s definitely Osha’s department, but the reason as to _why_ he wants a beer, who can he talk to about it? Not Arthur. Arthur is his stepfather and has helped raise him, but he wasn’t there when Lyanna was pregnant. And Jon knows that he can talk with Ned, but… well, he hesitates from doing that because Sansa is one of the most important things in Ned’s life and Jon can’t go to his father-in-law and tell him that the idea of having two newborns – his grandchildren – scares him enough to want to break all of his years of sobriety.

 

“Do you want to get some coffee?” Osha suggests, slipping her arm though his again. “I need coffee and as your sponsor, you have to do whatever I want.”

 

Jon smiles this time. “Then why even ask if I want some? Why just not drag me?”

 

“I’m trying to be polite, Jon,” Osha informs him, but then with her arm through his, she gives him a tug down the sidewalk that nearly makes him trip over his feet. They pass two coffee shops before Osha pulls him into a few blocks away. “Here we are,” Osha says as they step inside, but she stops them both before they can move towards the counter to order.

 

“Looking for someone?” Jon asks as her eyes begin scanning everyone in the small shop.

 

“No,” she says, but then her eyes light up when she looks towards the tables in the back. She tugs him again and again, Jon nearly trips over his feet.

 

Jon looks to the table they’re heading to and when Ned meets his eyes, the man smiles and gets to his feet.

 

“Thank you for coming, Ned,” Osha says. “And you got your coffee, I see. Jon, I’ll go get ours.”

 

Jon gives Ned a small smile and then turns Osha so their backs are towards the man. “You called Ned?” He asks her in a whisper.

 

“You need to talk to a _father_ about this, Jon. I’m not leaving you, but, and though I hate to say this out loud and admit such a thing, this is a penis conversation,” Osha whispers back.

 

Jon thinks that over for a second. He then sighs. “You’re right,” he agrees.

 

“Obviously.”

 

“I just… you still have Ned’s phone number?”

 

Osha’s face softens. “A good sponsor has all of the numbers, Jon,” she says with a smile.

 

Jon stills. He can only hope that he always has the numbers that Gilly will ever need.

 

“I’m getting us coffee. Don’t start without me.”

 

Osha gives his arm an affectionate squeeze and then steps away to go stand in line at the counter. Jon takes a deep breath and turns back to Ned and the table. Ned is still standing there and gives him a smile. Jon gives a smile in return and finally goes to him.

 

“Everything alright?” Ned asks.

 

Jon hesitates. “No,” he then admits honestly. “But I think it will be.”

 

Ned’s eyes and smile are warm and the hand he puts on Jon’s shoulder is comforting. “Yes, it will be.”

 

…

 

By the time Jon gets home, Brandon is already in bed, asleep, and Sansa is in bed as well. Jon lets the dogs out in the backyard one more time and then makes sure the house is locked up good and tight before heading upstairs, Ghost and Lady racing past him. Lady trots into Brandon’s room – she sleeps on the floor at his bedside nearly every night – and Jon goes in to kiss Brandon on the head and make sure he’s covered. The boy is sleeping deeply and doesn’t even stir.

 

He then goes into his and Sansa’s bedroom – Ghost already lying on the foot of the bed and Sansa lying on her side, asleep. Jon heads right into the bathroom and after stripping out of his clothes, tossing them into the hamper, he gets into the shower. He doesn’t want to crawl in his and Sansa’s bed and have her smelling like cigarette smoke. There’s only one reason why he ever smokes and she is more than aware of that reason.

 

He releases a tired sigh once he’s dry, his hair isn’t sopping as much and he’s in his pajamas, slipping between the sheets beside Sansa.

 

Her eyes flutter open once she feels him next to her and she gives him a tired smile. “Is everything alright?”

 

Jon opens his mouth to give her an automatic answer. “I’m fine” or “Of course, everything’s alright”, but instead, Jon turns his head on the pillow and looks at her. “I’m scared,” he confesses to her in a quiet voice.

 

Sansa keeps her eyes open and she’s not looking as tired anymore. “Me, too,” she whispers.

 

“You are?” Jon can’t help, but sound surprised. He turns onto his side so he faces her, one of his hands resting on the side of her now massive baby bump. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sansa questions him in return and she has every right to.

 

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to stress you out because I know you would have and I just…” Jon trails off and shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he finally just decides that that’s the best thing to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Sansa pauses a moment and then a smile slowly spreads across her face. “I didn’t want to stress you out.”

 

Jon smiles, too, it growing until the corners of his eyes are crinkling. “But I talked to your dad and Osha was there to help me and I feel better. No matter what happens, you, me, Brandon, George and Eleanor will get through it as a family.”

 

“I talked with my mom and I’ve come to the exact same conclusion,” Sansa says, lifting a hand to scratch her fingers through the beard at his jaw. “When I was pregnant with Brandon… it sounds so horrible now, but for most of it, it was as if my mind wasn’t even processing it. I was dealing with so many other things. I mean, I knew I was having a baby. I could feel him moving and growing and I knew that I would do anything to keep him safe, but I was so scared about Ramsay, I didn’t really have time to focus on being pregnant and I certainly didn’t know just how much I loved Brandon until I held in my arms for the first time. The first time, I didn’t have time to be scared of being pregnant. Scared, yes, but of everything else.”

 

She looks into his eyes as she continues slowly scratching through his beard and Jon moves as close to her as he can, her stomach pressing into his, and he smiles faintly when he feels their son and daughter rolling around inside. He has no idea how Sansa can get _any_ sleep while they’re practicing a tap dance routine.

 

“But being pregnant for a second time, I have a husband who I love so much and who is at my side for everything and this time… I can focus on this pregnancy and I am able to realize just how scared I am.”

 

Jon moves his head towards her and kisses her on the forehead. “I want to be strong enough for you to be scared and be able to tell me.”

 

“Why are you scared?” Sansa asks him.

 

“I wasn’t around when Brandon was a baby. I mean, I was, but I wasn’t able to help and… I’m scared I’m going to be complete crap at it.”

 

When he says the words out loud to Sansa, for some reason, Jon almost cringes. It sounds so stupid. It’s different saying it to Ned or Osha or _anyone_ else, but actually saying it to Sansa, he doesn’t know. It just sounds so stupid because there’s no reason for him to feel scared. Even if he _is_ a crap dad with their babies, Sansa won’t let him stay that way. She and Brandon already make him work towards being the best possible man that he can be. He can just imagine how it will be when George and Eleanor are here, too, adding to it.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m an idiot.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Sansa shakes her head. “We’re weeks away from our babies being here. If you weren’t scared, I would actually be worried. Jon, we’re having _twins_.”

 

“I remember,” he smiles a little.

 

“And it’s amazing and wonderful and absolutely terrifying. I’m terrified. You’re terrified. I’d just feel a lot better if we’re terrified together,” Sansa says and Jon smiles.

 

“That’s one of the best things I’ve ever heard,” Jon murmurs just before he covers her mouth with his.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	10. Good Morning, Good Morning

…

 

**Ten**. Good Morning, Good Morning.

 

Sansa feels her eyes flutter open and she slowly begins to wake up. For a moment, she lies there, without moving, trying to figure out what has caused her to wake up. She then turns her head on the pillow and slowly breaks into a smile when she sees her husband coming into the hospital room with a massive bouquet of blue and pink balloons, doing his best to wrangle them all without trying to make any noise to disturb her.

 

“Where did those come from?” Sansa asks, clearly startling him.

 

Jon jumps and then his head whips over to the bed, smiling as soon as his eyes land on hers. “Hey,” he breathes and Sansa feels her heart clench at his tone. He’s looking at her as she’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen and knowing Jon, Sansa knows that that’s probably exactly what he’s thinking right now. “Tormund, Edd and Val had these delivered. Where should we put them?”

 

Sansa isn’t sure. Her hospital room is an explosion of blue and pink everywhere – flowers, cards, balloons, stuffed animals. She honestly hadn’t even known she had this many people in her life who considered her to be someone to warrant such gifts.

 

Jon is looking around the room, too, and then looks back to Sansa with a slight frown, seeing the same problem she is, and it makes her laugh.

 

“Maybe I’ll have your mom take these home for us,” Jon suggests.

 

“My mom’s still here?” Sansa asks though she doesn't know why she should be surprised. Catelyn was the first person Jon had called after they had dropped Brandon off at his parents’ house and he had been driving Sansa to the hospital yesterday afternoon and when Catelyn had arrived, she hadn’t left.

 

“Just down in the cafeteria, getting more coffee,” Jon nods and leaves the balloons underneath the television bolted to the wall for the moment. “She’s then going to go to the nursery to look at them again.”

 

Sansa smiles just from the mention of their babies. “Can we have them brought back in here?”

 

“Now that you’re awake,” Jon smiles and comes to the bed. He leans over and kisses her on the forehead. He stays leaned over her and Sansa smiles up at him. “How are you feeling?” He asks her in a quiet voice, his eyes staring into hers and she knows that if she asks him of anything right now, he’ll do it.

 

“Sore,” she replies honestly.

 

“I have no idea why,” Jon murmurs with a smile and she smiles, too, before he drops his lips gently to hers.

 

He then sits down in the chair still placed at her bedside, the chair that’s been his for hours now. He leans forward and holds one of her hands between both of his – as if he needs to keep touching her, any part of her, in some way. Sansa doesn’t mind though. She likes having him right at her side. When she had given birth to Brandon, her parents had been the ones at her sides, never leaving her, but now, having Jon, her husband, in this same spot, she’s never realized how lonely she had been during that time.

 

“You’re amazing,” Jon tells her then.

 

“You’ve said that several times already,” Sansa replies with a small, teasing smile.

 

“Well, get used to it because I’m pretty sure I’m not going to stop anytime soon,” he says, his thumb running back and forth over her knuckles. “Sansa, you pushed _two_ babies out of you last night.”

 

“Is that what happened? I must have forgotten,” she says airily and Jon breaks into a grin before he lifts her hand to his lips, giving it a kiss. Sansa studies him for a moment. “It’s going to get very hard for us for a while.” It’s something she’s tried not to dwell on over the past few months if she’s being honest, but now that George and Eleanor are actually, physically here, and Brandon, too, she and Jon are going to have their hands full – to put it mildly.

 

“As long as we’re together, we’ll get through it,” Jon tells her quietly, yet his voice is strong, and he kisses her hand again. “We’ll always get through anything together.” Those words are said more as a promise.

 

“I’m scared,” she hears herself whisper before she can keep herself from giving voice to those thoughts.

 

Jon leans even closer to the bed and still holding her hand with one of his, he lifts his other hand to the top of her head, brushing hair back and his thumb sweeping across her forehead. “Tell me,” he whispers back, his eyes staring into her and nowhere else.

 

The intensity and love of which he’s looking at her with right now makes her feel overwhelmed and she closes her eyes, feeling them growing wet, and she releases a shuddering breath. She hears Jon move and then he is climbing onto the bed with her. Sansa shifts to give him more room and he wraps her in both of his arms, holding her close and gently – aware that she is going to be sore for more than a few days.

 

“Sansa, please tell me,” he whispers again.

 

Sansa keeps her eyes closed, but she turns more towards Jon and presses her face against Jon’s chest. She can feel his lips on the top of her head and she exhales a shaky exhale of breath. “I’m sorry I’m scared. I just think of you going to work every day and me being home, alone, with three babies and… it _terrifies_ me,” she confesses and she can’t bring herself to look at him as she does so; feeling like, somehow, she’s already failed and she can’t bear to see those same thoughts reflected in Jon’s eyes.

 

“You won’t be alone, Sansa,” his words are murmured as his lips are still in her hair. “I’ve already talked to the Baratheon brothers and I’ve talked with Tormund, Edd and Val, too.”

 

Sansa pulls her head back so she can tilt it upwards to look at him. “What?” Her brow furrows and she frowns. “You haven’t said-”

 

“I was waiting to hear what Stannis and Robert had to say about it. When I read the contract, Baratheon Projects didn’t have anything about paternal leave, but I still figured I would ask. And don’t think I asked because I thought, for even a second, that you couldn’t do this on your own. I just didn’t want you to. These are my kids, too, and we’re outnumbered now and we’re going to have to stick together.”

 

Sansa looks at him for a moment before an unexpected giggle escapes past her lips. “Oh my goodness, we _are_ outnumbered now,” she says and she wonders why she hadn’t thought of it like that before Jon saying it.

 

That’s what they are though. There are only two of them and there are _three_ children.

 

Jon smiles and cupping the back of her head, he gives her a kiss. “The Baratheon’s gave me three weeks paid paternal leave. I know it’s not a lot-”

 

“It’s perfect,” Sansa cuts in. “Thank you for asking them about it. I was able to handle Brandon by myself, but even then, having a baby is just completely overwhelming and now, there are two of them _plus_ a rambunctious four-year-old and my hormones are still completely insane…” she trails off and sighs softly. Today is such a happy day. She and the babies made it through the labor and everyone is here, healthy and happy, but still, she worries because Sansa supposes that that’s what she does. She worries. “It’s just a lot and I’m scared I can’t handle it.”

 

“You can,” Jon says and he says it in such a way that Sansa knows there’s no room for argument. That’s what Jon knows and what he believes and there’s no changing his mind. “You’re still stuck with me for three weeks though so hopefully, I’ll be able to actually help you and not just be constantly in your way.”

 

Sansa shakes her head at that and smiles and gently pulls him down, back to her lips for another kiss.

 

There is the softest knock on the room door and their lips slowly part to turn their heads to see who it is. Both smile when Arthur pokes his head in.

 

“Is it alright to come in?” He asks.

 

“Of course,” Sansa smiles and Jon slides off the bed and then adjusts her pillows and helps her sit up.

 

Arthur holds the door open with his foot as he wrangles two large stuffed teddy bears into the room with him – one with a blue bow tie and the other with a pink bow tie. He stops short though when he sees the room already filled – including with the large arrangement of flowers and balloons that he and Lyanna have already had sent over earlier that day.

 

“Huh,” he says and then smiles bashfully at Jon and Sansa. “I’ll just take these back home with us and leave them in the nursery for you.”

 

“Thank you, Arthur,” Jon smiles though he’s also already trying to picture where he and Sansa are going to be putting all of these things for the babies in the house when they get home in a couple of more days.

 

For now, Arthur shoves the teddy bears into the small bathroom and then comes to the bed with a grin. “You look beautiful, Sansa,” he says and leans down to kiss her on the cheek.

 

“Thank you so much, Arthur,” Sansa says, still smiling. “And is Brandon here?” She asks, unable to hide her excitement at the prospect.

 

“He is,” Arthur confirms as he and Jon hug. “Lyanna took him by the nursery first so he could look at his brother and sister first, but then she’s bringing him right up.”

 

“Thank you for watching him last night,” Jon says, settling himself down, once again, into his chair.

 

“That’s a stupid thing to thank me for,” Arthur comments as he slowly looks over everything Sansa has already received since word has spread that she has given birth. He chuckles when he unrolls a poster that her brother, Bran, has sent over of a black and white photograph poster of George Harrison to be hung on the wall.

 

“Still,” Jon smiles. “Thank you.”

 

“Was he alright for you?” Sansa wonders.

 

“Good as gold, as always. I see what you mean about hearing that _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ theme song on your deathbed though,” Arthur says, glancing to Jon, and Jon grins.

 

There is another quiet knock on the door followed by Catelyn sticking her head into the room. And when mother and daughter see one another, their eyes immediately seem to flood with tears. She comes hurrying into the room and Sansa instantly opens her arms, Catelyn coming straight to her and hugging her tightly as Sansa holds onto her tightly in return.

 

“You have quite the group of visitors,” a new voice informs them all and Sansa and Catelyn pull apart, Sansa wiping her cheeks and smiling and Catelyn kissing her forehead. The new voice is a nurse coming into the room and with her, she is carefully pushing a plastic bassinet in front of her. Behind her, there is Lyanna, pushing the second plastic bassinet and then Ned enters, Brandon scooped up into his arms.

 

“Mama!” Brandon exclaims as soon as he sees her sitting up in the bed.

 

“Brandon!” A fresh round of tears flood her eyes and Ned comes over, dropping a kiss onto his daughter’s head before gently settling his grandson down beside her on the bed.

 

“Remember what we said? You must be gentle with her for a bit,” Ned says and Brandon nods as Sansa gathers him up in her arms, kissing his head over and over again and Brandon giggles at the affection.

 

“May I hold one?” Lyanna asks once she is done hugging Jon.

 

“Grandmothers don’t have to ask, Lyanna,” Sansa smiles at her and Lyanna comes to kiss her on the head before going to join Catelyn at the bassinets, taking in her first sight of her new grandchildren.

 

“Oh, they’re perfect,” she breathes.

 

“Aren’t they?” Catelyn smiles, also staring down at the babies.

 

With that, Catelyn picks up George and Lyanna picks up Eleanor. The babies are swaddled in blankets and caps – blue for George and pink for Eleanor – and their eyes are closed, asleep from such a trying experience. After a few minutes of cooing and rocking them and holding their grandson and granddaughter, Catelyn and Lyanna then switch.

 

“Why are they wearing mittens?” Brandon asks with a frown, Sansa’s arms still around him.

 

Sansa smiles and kisses his head. “So, they don’t scratch their faces with their little nails.”

 

“Oh,” Brandon replies, but he’s still frowning at them. He then looks up at Sansa. “Did I wear mittens?”

 

“You did,” Sansa smiles and holds him close to her side. “You were adorable in your little mittens.” She laughs when Brandon scowls at that and she kisses his head once more.

 

Ned and Arthur are now taking turns, holding their grandchildren, and Jon perches himself on Sansa’s other side. She smiles up at him and he smiles, giving her a kiss on the temple.

 

“Room for more?” Robb asks, knocking and pushing open the door and when he comes into the room, Margaery is behind him, her hand tucked into his.

 

“Hi!” Sansa happily greets them both and then there are more hugs and kisses and Robb shows what he and Margaery have just picked up to bring for the babies.

 

“What is with you guys and the giant stuffed animals?” Jon grumbles when Robb shows off the two stuffed elephants that he can’t even get his arms completely around.

 

“What? Babies love giant stuffed animals,” Robb assures him as he opens the bathroom door and shoves the elephants inside to be kept with the teddy bears already in there.

 

Jon chooses not to point out to him that the babies are barely eight hours old and he doubts they have opinions yet of giant stuffed animals.

 

Sansa looks down to Brandon and she sees the way he’s watching everyone fawn over the babies and the way he notices all of the presents that are crowding the room – all for the babies. She gives him a kiss on the head and gives him a squeeze before turning her head to look to Jon. Jon is watching Sansa and Brandon both and Jon seems to be reading Sansa’s mind.

 

“Brandon, would you like to come down to the cafeteria with me? I saw that they were baking chocolate cookies and I think I might have to get myself at least two,” Jon tells him. “Will you want to come get one?”

 

Brandon’s eyes immediately light up. “Yes!” He exclaims and Jon grins, standing up, and Sansa gives Brandon a smile and another kiss before Jon swoops him up into his arms.

 

“I’ll come, too,” Robb says, gently passing Eleanor from his arms into Arthur’s after giving his new niece a kiss on her forehead. “Chocolate cookies are a weakness of mine.”

 

“I thought I was a weakness of yours,” Margaery says, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I think everyone in this room knows just how a weak of a man I am in a lot of things,” Robb comments in return and Catelyn, Ned and Sansa all roll their eyes at the same time.  

 

 “And look what I brought, Sansa,” Margaery smiles, after passing George into Catelyn’s arms. She picks up a small bag from the floor and waves it back and forth. “I figured we can do something with your hair. You see these new moms post on Instagram an hour after giving birth, full makeup and styled hair. I think we can definitely give them a run for their money.”

 

Sansa smiles and laughs and feels tears flood her eyes as she looks around the room – at her family. Her parents and in-laws, her brother and her best friend, her newborn twins, her son, and her husband. She knows she has felt happiness before in her life – especially over the past four years since giving birth to Brandon and feeling as if she was starting her life all over again – but what she feels now, she’s never felt it before and she’s almost afraid to feel it, but she decides to not try and convince herself to ignore it.

 

This feeling right now, warm in her chest and spreading to the very tips of her fingers and the very tips of her toes – especially when George and Eleanor are both placed into her arms once again and Brandon is shouting from Jon’s arms at the door that he’ll bring her back a cookie, too – Sansa Snow feels as if things have never been better.

 

…


	11. Cry Baby Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Brandon's relationship is one of my favorite things about this universe. The next chapter will be a bit of a "fast-forward" in time and Jon is going to be taking Sansa out for a one-on-one adult date night. Thank you as always!

…

 

 **Eleven.** Cry Baby Cry.

 

Sansa has been dreading this day. Absolutely dreading it. She won’t tell Jon that, of course, though she has a not-so sneaky suspicion that Jon already knows.

 

Three weeks have flown by like no time at all and when Jon gets into the shower so he can get himself ready to return to work now that his paternal leave has reached an end, Sansa is already down in the kitchen, feeding George his breakfast first. It has been learned – very quickly – that George all, but demands to eat first. Thankfully, Eleanor is a bit more patient than her brother when it comes to meals. She seems to know that yes, their mama will feed them and there’s no reason to scream bloody murder for it.

 

Eleanor is in the baby basinet they keep downstairs in the family room and Sansa is on the L-shaped couch, feeding George from her breast. She’s been feeling like such a cow for these past few weeks since the twins have gotten here. If she’s not nursing, she’s pumping and the milk is constant.

 

It’s still grey outside, the sun getting ready to peek up at any moment now, and the house – for once is quiet. Sansa can hear the water running from Jon’s shower, but Brandon is still sleeping, Ghost and Lady are still sleeping and Sansa feels as if she can drop off into a deep sleep this very instant if given the opportunity to.

 

These three weeks, she has blinked and they’ve passed. The twins are three weeks old now. She and Jon are running on very little sleep, George and Eleanor are demanding every second of her attention and in the rare quiet moment like this when one of the twins is eating and the other is dozing, Sansa finds herself sitting and wondering if she’s completely ruined Brandon’s life.

 

Poor Brandon. She can’t even imagine what he’s going through right now. To go from being the only baby and having all of her and all of her attention to now having next to nothing of it, Sansa knows that she is failing him. She doesn’t know how her mom did this all of the times she did. How did Catelyn juggle so many young children at the same time and ensure that none of her children went through even one day, thinking that their mother hated them and didn’t have time for them?

 

Sansa obviously needs to call her mom. Catelyn and Lyanna, both, have been amazing and have been coming by as often as they possibly can to lend a hand and Rickon comes, too, offering to take Brandon out for a bit of a play – either in the backyard or in the park across the street. Sansa wonders how Rickon is able to connect with Brandon in this particular experience considering that Rickon, himself, is the youngest of the Stark brood and never, personally, went through being overshadowed when another sibling came along.

 

But thank goodness that he understands – however he does.

 

George finishes and she takes a moment to make sure that he’s burped and she wipes at his chin before kissing his plump cheek. The twins have the plumpest cheeks. It also looks like they might get Brandon’s hair – not as red as hers, but more of that dark copper tone that her mom, Robb and Rickon all share. She hopes Jon won’t be disappointed that they won’t have his black shade, but she can’t imagine Jon being disappointed over something like that.

 

She sits up just enough to lay George in the basinet next to his sister’s before she picks Eleanor up.

 

“Would you like some breakfast, baby girl?” Sansa asks her softly.

 

Eleanor opens her eyes just enough to look up at her face before she closes her eyes again; but she turns her face enough where her lips can clasp around Sansa’s nipple. Sansa only winces slightly at the weak pinch and then they both settle again as Eleanor takes her turn.

 

Sansa hums a soft song, listening to the quiet morning around her. Was it just not even two years before where it had been just her and Brandon, living in their tiny house and having no idea that their lives would possibly change this much in the span of months?  Who, on earth, could have ever predicted this all happening? Sansa had thought she, besides having Brandon, would be alone for the rest of her life. After what Ramsay had done to her, she had never been able to imagine any other man possibly wanting her. She had been too broken for anyone to possibly ever get even close.

 

But Jon… even when she convinced herself she never wanted it to be him, it was _always_ him.

 

And now, they have all of this. A beautiful house, three healthy, beautiful children. Snow Construction, under the Baratheon Projects umbrella, is flourishing more than ever before. They live close to their families. They love each other madly. It’s the life she’s always dreamed about having.

 

She just wishes she knew now what to do in regards to Brandon. Could she possibly ask her parents or her in-laws to perhaps babysit George and Eleanor for a few hours while she does something special with Brandon – just the two of them; how it used to be? Could she possibly leave her three-week old babies already? Even for just a little bit of time? Would that be too soon to leave the babies? Sansa knows she puts too much stock into what others possibly think of her, but that’s something from her time with Ramsay that she can never seem to shake. Whether she’s pleasing others is something that constantly plagues her whether she wants it to or not. She and her therapist, Dr. Tarth, have been trying to work her past that, but – as Dr. Tarth has said – these things take time.

 

She startles from her thoughts when Jon appears beside her, his lips brushing along her temple.

 

“When she’s done feeding, I can take over for a bit so you can take a shower,” he says.

 

“Goodness, yes,” Sansa breathes with relief. That’s another thing she has come to realize she’s taken for granted since Brandon has become old enough to be left alone for a few minutes on the couch with his cereal and cartoons; the luxurious time to take a shower.

 

Jon smiles and after another kiss to Sansa’s head, he goes into the kitchen to get himself some coffee and let Lady and Ghost out into the backyard. Eleanor finishes her breakfast and Sansa burps her before kissing her on her plump cheek and setting her down in her bassinet. She then stands up, righting herself again and stretching her arms above her head, grunting a bit. She looks to Jon in the kitchen and sees him dressed in jeans and his Snow Construction hooded sweatshirt since there’s a bit of a nip in the air that day. His hair, still a damp from his shower, is already pulled back into its man-bun. As always, Jon looks as handsome as man can be and Sansa is fairly certain she looks second to some sort of swamp monster. Jon, though, lifts his head from pouring himself a cup of cold coffee from the jug he keeps in the refrigerator and when his eyes meet hers, he instantly smiles and Sansa smiles – almost shyly – in return.

 

Jon, at least, seems to still be attracted and love swamp monsters.

 

“I won’t be long,” she promises. “I know you have to get out of here.”

 

Jon, sipping from his mug at that moment, shakes his head and then pauses to swallow. “Take your time. Val is stopping by here first this morning so we can count some prints.”

 

“Jon!” Sansa can’t help, but gasp at that. “She’s coming _here_? The house is a complete disaster!” She and Jon certainly haven't had the time to stay on top of any kind of cleaning schedule. 

 

“Val won’t care about that, Sansa, and it’s not a _complete_ disaster,” Jon assures her.

 

Before Sansa can respond to that, George opens his mouth to remind his parents that he’s very much here and would like their attention by letting out a shriek of cries.

 

“Go,” Jon all, but orders her as Sansa turns back towards the bassinet. She picks George up and Jon has crossed from the kitchen into the family room, taking him right out of her arms into his. “Go take your shower and I will see to him.”

 

“I can’t believe you told Val to come here,” Sansa is still frowning about that.

 

Jon just smiles and kisses her at the corner of her jaw – a spot that always gets her to melt.

 

“Don’t even think about it, buster,” she says through slightly-narrowed eyes at him and Jon gives her a grin.

 

As Jon goes about, changing George’s diaper, Sansa heads up the stairs so she can at least attempt to make herself somewhat presentable when Val comes. There was a time – long before she and Jon got back together and Sansa was still convincing herself that she absolutely hated Jon Snow – that Sansa admitted to being jealous of Val, the gorgeous Snow Construction electrician. Jon was around her every day and Sansa couldn’t imagine that she was any comparison to the petite, honey-blonde, grey-eyed beauty. When she took an actual moment to get to know her though, Sansa found Val to be kind and funny – and absolutely smitten with the Snow Construction carpenter, Edd.

 

Still though, Sansa doesn’t want Val to come here and see the absolute mess that the Snow family is living in right now. Yes, one newborn has so many things and it’s hard to keep a clean home with a baby around – let alone _two_ – but Sansa has always prided herself on keeping a somewhat orderly home.

 

At the top of the stairs, instead of going straight into hers and Jon’s bedroom to take her shower, she first steps down the hallway to look into Brandon’s bedroom to see if he’s still sleeping.

 

He’s not.

 

Instead, still in his pajamas, he’s sitting on the floor of his bedroom, on the play mat where he sets up his rather extensive trainset, and he’s holding something in his hands. But the only thing Sansa can see are the tears slowly rolling down his cheeks.

 

“Sweetling,” Sansa rushes into the room. “What’s wrong?”

 

She quickly comes to sit down next to him, her arms immediately around him, and Brandon shakes his head, only crying harder now that his mama is holding him.

 

“Oh, Brandon,” Sansa murmurs, her heart aching at the sound of his tears, and she holds him close, rocking him slightly and rubbing her hand on his arm. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

Brandon shows her what he’s holding. It’s one of his plastic figurines, Vic – his favorite hippo from _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ – and in one hand, Brandon is holding his head and in the other, he is holding the body.

 

“Oh, sweetling,” Sansa murmurs and kisses his head. “We’ll fix Vic and he’ll be as good as new. We’ll take him down to daddy right now.”

 

Brandon just shakes his head and continues crying. Sansa gets the feeling that perhaps Brandon isn’t crying only because of his broken hippo toy. She doesn’t wait for him to tell her that. She knows. As Brandon’s mother, it’s just something she knows without having to be told.

 

Sansa only holds him tighter and continues gently rocking him as he soaks her tee-shirt with his tears.

 

“I love you so much, Brandon,” Sansa tells him and does her best to say it without crying herself. “I wish I could explain to you just how much I love you.”

 

Brandon doesn’t say anything – not that she expects him to – but his cries seem to be waning off now; slowly, but surely. Sansa doesn’t stop holding him or rocking him though. She kisses his head and murmurs to him again that she loves him.

 

When his tears completely stop, he finally lifts his head again and looks up at her. Sansa gives him a soft smile and wipes at his tear-stained cheeks with her hands.

 

“Sometimes, we all just need a good cry,” she says to him and Brandon nods as if in complete agreement. She smiles and gives him a kiss on the forehead.

 

“Mama,” Brandon says and now, he looks guilty over something, his eyes downcast, staring at Vic rather than at her, and he sniffles one more time.

 

“You can tell me, Brandon,” Sansa assures him, brushing hair back from his forehead.

 

He sighs then and it is a sigh that sounds far too heavy for a four-year-old. “I don’t like the babies,” he then says, almost mumbling it.

 

Sansa’s been expecting something like this to be said from him, but her heart clenches all the same. “It’s okay, Brandon,” she says to him in her gentlest voice. “I know they aren’t very fun right now.”

 

“They cry and poop too much,” Brandon informs her.

 

“Would you believe me if I told you that that’s all you did when you were a baby and I brought you home from the hospital?” She asks and then breaks into a smile when Brandon looks at her with a frown, clearly not believing her. “It’s true. Your aunt and uncles asked if you would ever do something else.”

 

“That’s not true, mama,” Brandon tells her in a tone that he knows far more than her on the subject.

 

“It is!” Sansa insists with laughter in her tone and Brandon smiles, too. She looks at him with a smile and wipes at his cheeks again. “It’s okay if you don’t like George and Eleanor right now, Brandon.”

 

“It is?” He understandably seems surprised that Sansa would say that.

 

“It is,” she nods. “Because I know that though you don’t like them right now, they are your brother and sister and you love them. And when they are a bit older, a few months from now when they aren’t just pooping and crying, they are going to absolutely love their big brother.”

 

Brandon sniffles again and Sansa leans in to rest her forehead against his.

 

“Alright now?” She asks.

 

“Alright now,” Brandon confirms and she kisses his forehead.

 

Once she sees Brandon safely downstairs and to Jon in the kitchen – where he is now holding Eleanor as he sips his coffee, standing at the counter and reading over a few emails he’s received for work (but he immediately focuses on Brandon and putting Vic right again) – Sansa returns back upstairs to finally take her shower. She tells herself to not take that long, but once she’s under the strong, hot spray of water, she can’t seem to stop from doing exactly that. She washes her hair and body thoroughly, she shaves her legs, and when she steps out of the shower once again, she feels almost human again.

 

When she gets back downstairs again in fresh clothes, she sees Val is here now, with Jon in the dining room, both standing and pouring over a large set of blueprints spread out across the dining room table, George now to be the twin in Jon’s arms as he works. Brandon is standing up on one of the chairs – a fixed Vic in his hand – and looking over the blueprints as well, his eyes slightly wide with fascination.

 

Jon lifts his head as soon as he feels Sansa in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room and he smiles at her within an instant.

 

“Do you need me to take him?” Sansa offers, taking a step into the room.

 

“No, he’s alright for now,” Jon says, still smiling. “Eleanor has a fresh diaper, too, and she’s asleep again.”

 

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her and Sansa feels, suddenly, quite glad that she had taken her time in the shower. Though Jon was still looking at her like she was beautiful when she felt like a swamp monster, she feels better about herself now that he’s looking at her like that she no longer necessarily feels like one.

 

“Hi, Val,” Sansa smiles at the other woman.

 

“Hi, Sansa,” she smiles and the two women share a hug. “I hope if I _ever_ give birth to twins, I look as amazing as you look.”

 

Sansa promptly bursts into a blush and she’s not going to lie to herself. Having a woman who looks like Val saying something like that to her, it makes her feel even better.

 

She smiles and turns to Brandon. “Would you like some breakfast, Brandon?” She asks.

 

“I’m helping daddy!” He informs her with a happy grin and it seems as if his tears upstairs earlier have been completely forgotten in the boy’s memory. Sansa is more than happy to see that.

 

“Well, contractors need their breakfasts, too,” she tells him with her own smile. “Isn’t that right?”

 

“Absolutely,” Val readily agrees.

 

“I can’t work without eating breakfast first,” Jon tells him.

 

“Come on, sweetling,” Sansa says and with a soft _oof_ , she lifts Brandon down from the chair to the floor. “Let’s get some breakfast in you and then you can keep helping daddy and Val. Alright?”

 

Brandon doesn’t say anything; just runs from the dining room to the kitchen.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take George?” Sansa asks Jon again.

 

“He’s fine, Sansa,” Jon assures her. “He’s already had his breakfast.”

 

A smile begins pulling at his lips at that and Sansa replies with a roll of her eyes – while trying to not smile – and she turns to go to Brandon in the kitchen before he creates a disaster she’s still too tired to clean.

 

…


	12. I've Got a Feeling

…

 

**Twelve.** I’ve Got a Feeling.

 

Jon smiles as he stands on the back deck, watching as Brandon climbs up the ladder of his new playset, Ghost barking and wagging his tail, wanting to follow after him.

 

“Come on, Ghost!” Brandon shouts down to him and Ghost barks, running around the playset excitedly before he remembers that there are stairs as well and he comes barreling upwards to join Brandon on the slide tower, almost knocking the boy over in his excitement and Brandon’s laughter of delight echoing in the late afternoon. “Daddy! Watch!” Brandon then calls out to him.

 

“Let’s see it, Brandon!” Jon calls back with a smile.

 

Brandon laughs and sits down at the top of the yellow plastic slide and Ghost comes up behind him, gently pushing him in the back with his head, but it’s a good enough push to send Brandon down the slide and Ghost slides down right after him, both landing with a heap on the ground.

 

 From behind him, inside the house, he hears the doorbell ring, but Jon remains out on the deck, smiling as Brandon continues to laugh as he and Ghost race back up for another go on the slide. As Jon had promised to himself, he – and Edd – has built his son a playground set befitting for their new big backyard as it comes as no surprise that Brandon absolutely loves it and Jon loves watching him play all over it – going down the slide, swinging as high as he dares on the swing, practicing getting across the monkey bars. Jon and Edd have also added a rope-climbing feature as well as small bridge and a sandpit underneath one of the towers that they will have to eventually cover when the snow comes.

 

“If you decide to ever take Snow Construction in a different direction, I think you could make a killing building playground sets,” Sansa told him once Jon had unveiled the finished product and Brandon had taken off immediately for it, nearly tripping over his feet in his excitement to reach it as quickly as he could.

 

“You think?” Jon asked, looking away from Brandon to Sansa at his side, also watching their son with a smile across her lips. “Edd did most of it.”

 

“Well, we both know that’s not true,” Sansa said and shook her head before giving Jon a kiss on the cheek. She then followed after Brandon to get a look at the playground set for herself.

 

From behind him, Jon hears the patio door slide open and he sees that it’s Sansa stepping outside, George in her arms as she usually is now. Since the day the twins were born, it amazed Jon and Sansa how, almost immediately, the twins had their own _different_ personalities. George is the louder of the two – always making the first demand to be held, or fed, or changed. At three months now, they’re not crying nearly as much as they had in the beginning, but if George feels like he’s not being seen to quick enough, he has no problem letting his parents – and anyone else in the vicinity – know it.

 

And to think. George had been considered the _quiet_ Beatle.

 

 “I’ve finished pumping with enough to get us through tonight and all of tomorrow, your parents are here and I have finished my research,” Sansa informs him.

 

“And?” Jon smiles and he takes George into his arms. “What’s the verdict?”

 

“I most definitely can and I most definitely will,” she answers with a finality in her tone as if Jon is about to offer up some sort of counter argument.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Jon says, still smiling as George tries to see when he hears Brandon laughing loudly. Jon turns himself so the baby is able to see his older brother. “We all ready to go then?” He asks Sansa.

 

“Gods, yes,” Sansa exhales.

 

Jon leans in and gives her a kiss on the corner of her jaw and one of Sansa’s hands go to rest on his chest.

 

“I know the doctor has cleared us, but you doing that is just asking for trouble,” Sansa warns him.

 

Jon’s eyes are closed and he smiles as he brushes his nose along her cheek. “Is it?” He asks though he’s well aware that it is. That spot at the corner of her jaw, he’s not sure how exactly it works, but all he does is barely touch that spot and she’s turned on. Jon will bet money that his wife is a bit wet between her thighs now.

 

Gods, he loves this woman and he can’t help, but be ridiculously excited for this evening. He feels like it’s been forever since it’s been just the two of them, spending any amount of time together.  With three kids now, obviously, they are the priority, but Jon _misses_ his wife. He has been looking forward to this evening ever since Jon asked his parents if they wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a couple of hours (they hadn’t minded in the least).

 

“You’re terrible,” Sansa informs him and Jon can just smile a little at that statement. “Brandon!” She turns to call out. “Grandma Lyanna and Grandpa Arthur are here and it’s time for dinner!”

 

“Dinner!” Brandon exclaims from the top of the slide tower. Few things can actually get Brandon to stop playing on his playset, but hearing that it’s time to eat is one of those things.

 

Ghost gives Brandon one more push down the slide and follows after him and the two come down into their heap on the ground before they both get to their feet, shaking themselves off and then running towards the back steps of the deck. He runs right past them into the house and Sansa and Jon, with Ghost trotting behind him, bringing up the rear, follows him, Jon sliding the patio door behind them all and locking it shut.

 

Eleanor is already in her grandma’s arms with Lady sitting, pretty and alert, at her side. Lady trusts Lyanna, but she is extremely protective of both babies just as she is of Brandon and no matter who is holding them – besides Jon and Sansa – Lady proceeds to watch them until they place the baby down again.

 

“Granpa!” Brandon exclaims and Arthur grins, easily hoisting Brandon up in his arms for a hug. “Did you bring it?” He then asks eagerly.

 

“I promised I would and so I have,” Arthur gives him a nod.

 

“Bring what?” Sansa asks as she goes into the kitchen area to get Brandon’s dinner together.

 

“Police chases!” Brandon exclaims, brimming with excitement.

 

“What?” Sansa instantly snaps to attention at that, looking to her son and father-in-law.

 

Arthur looks a little sheepish now and he bends down to set Brandon on his feet before going to where he and Lyanna have set their things, for now, on the kitchen table. He produces a DVD case and Sansa comes to take a look at it, Jon peering over her shoulder to look at it as well.

 

_Top Westeros Police Chases – Volume 3_

“How many volumes are there?” Jon asks curiously and Sansa looks at him with a raised eyebrow and a corner of her mouth pulling up into a smile. Jon just gives her a smile and a shrug in return.

 

“Five, but I brought this one because I was telling Brandon about one that I was in years ago, and it’s actually on this volume.”

 

“The chicken one?” Jon wonders, shifting George so he can take the DVD from Sansa to look over.

 

“The chicken one,” Arthur confirms and at Sansa’s questioning gaze, he smiles. “I was just starting out as a patrol officer and my partner and myself were pursuing a suspect in an armed robbery. High speed, he crashes into a truck that just so happened to be filled with chickens. My partner, myself, other officers who had arrived on the scene and the chicken driver as well as a few other motorists spent an hour gathering all of the chickens again from off the road. Miraculously, not a single chicken was harmed.”

 

Sansa is smiling so wide, she’s almost laughing. “Well, now _I_ want to watch the chicken chase,” she says.

 

“Some of them aren’t child appropriate, but I’ll skip over those,” Arthur promises.

 

“Please, mama. Can I please watch it?” Brandon proceeds to hop in front of her with his hands folded and his lower lip pouted out in a begging pose.

 

Sansa looks back to the DVD, looking it over for another moment, and then she looks to Jon. He just smiles and shrugs again, letting this one be Sansa’s call.

 

“Skip over the ones not appropriate for little eyes?” Sansa looks to Arthur.

 

“You have my word,” Arthur solemnly vows.

 

“Well, I would hate for you to miss your grandpa’s chicken chase,” Sansa finally says and Brandon explodes with a loud “yay!” and George responds by beginning to cry.

 

“I got him,” Arthur says and promptly lifts George from Jon’s arms. “You two should be getting out of here anyway. Your mother and I only promised a couple of hours.”

 

“Arthur, don’t say that,” Lyanna says, coming from the family room to join them in the eating area of the kitchen, Eleanor still in her arms and despite her twin brother’s cries, Eleanor is quiet as is her personality. Lyanna smiles to both Jon and Sansa. “You two be out as long as you want,” she tells them. “You two need the chance to be just you two for a bit.”

 

Jon has honesty been expecting it be a chore in getting Sansa out of the house. They haven’t left George and Eleanor completely alone since they had them three months earlier. She’s with them all day while he’s at work and then when Sansa has to go out before she loses her mind – either to the market or to Mordane’s to pick up some new fabric to sew and bringing Brandon along so they have their own time together – Jon will stay with the babies. This is the first time both will be gone at the same time and though obviously they trust his parents, Jon isn’t expecting to be able to easily leave them.

 

So after just a few dozen kisses on each child’s head and a few last minute instructions to Arthur and Lyanna as Lyanna gently herds both Jon and Sansa to the door, they leave and when the front door is shut behind them, Sansa breathes in deep and gives Jon a bright smile.

 

“Ready?” She asks.

 

Jon doesn’t answer. He simply takes her hand in his and gently tugs her down the front porch steps.

 

“Are you sure you want to walk?” Jon asks her as they head down the driveway.

 

“Yes,” Sansa nods. “It’s a beautiful evening and walking will help me lose this baby weight.”

 

Jon takes a moment to look her up and down pointedly and it makes Sansa blush. “What baby weight?”

 

“Spanx has become my new best friend so I don’t gross my husband out when he sees what’s going on under here,” Sansa waves a hand over her body.

 

Jon frowns now as he looks at her. She’s wearing jeans and an over-sized purples sweatshirt and even dressed in her simplest of clothes, Jon thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

 

He pulls his hand from hers and then wraps one arm around her shoulders and then the other around her front, hugging her into his side as they walk down the sidewalk. “Don’t let me hear you say things like that again,” he speaks right in her ear. “My wife is the most gorgeous woman in all of Westeros.”

 

Sansa’s blush deepens and she turns her head to look at him. “Just Westeros? Not Essos, too?” She teases.

 

Jon doesn’t say anything to that. He stops them both in the middle of the sidewalk and he spins her towards her. Sansa is in the middle of a laugh just as Jon presses his mouth to hers, swallowing her laugh down and feeling her moan softly. His arms are tight bands around her waist and Sansa’s arms circle his shoulders.

 

He kisses her, mixing soft and hard motions of his lips and tongue, and he doesn’t know how long he kisses her, but when he finally forces himself to separate his mouth from hers, he’s breathing heavily and it takes Sansa another moment before she’s able to flutter her eyes open to look at him.

 

“You keep kissing me like that, we’ll have a fourth child before we even know it,” she says quietly.

 

“Have you thought about that?” Jon asks as they resume walking. “Having more?”

 

“I know I shouldn’t considering my body is still recovering from the babies we _just_ had, but… yes. I’ve thought about it. I sometimes wonder how many we’ll have. What about you? Have you ever thought of a number?”

 

Jon shakes his head honestly. “I always thought I would be the luckiest man alive if I could have just you and Brandon. Anything after that, I’m considering a bonus.”

 

Sansa smiles and loops her arm through his, hugging his arm to her chest with both of hers. They are quiet for a few minutes as they walk upon Wintertown and Jon lets Sansa direct them to where she wants to go. She’s done the research and Jon is going to go wherever she wants. At the coffee shop, Jon steps ahead so he can open the door for her and with a hand on the small of her back, he follows her inside.

 

He pulls out his wallet and is almost laughing as he and Sansa head towards the counter, Sansa practically licking her lips as she looks to the chalkboard menu and smells the scents of coffee in the air.

 

“I’ve pumped for tomorrow, too, because the last thing we want is George and Eleanor on caffeine,” Sansa says and Jon lets out a laugh.

 

“Sounds good,” he nods. “And will it be safe for you to drink caffeine at this hour in the evening?”

 

Sansa looks at him from the corner of her eye with a teasing smile gracing her lips. “Well, I’m hoping that when we get home, the kids will be asleep and my husband has ideas of how to wear me out again.”

 

Jon wraps his arm around her shoulders, dragging her into his side and growling in her ear. “Seems like we’re shooting for a fourth baby already,” he says and Sansa lets out a laugh before she can help herself.

 

“Oh, no, Mr. Snow. You _will_ be wearing condoms until I tell you otherwise,” Sansa informs him plainly.

 

Jon lets out a laugh next and they step up to the counter once it’s their turn to order. “Whatever Mrs. Snow wants,” he says and means it in every way possible.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	13. I'm Only Sleeping

…

 

**Thirteen.** I’m Only Sleeping.

 

She has _no_ idea how Jon is still sleeping, but that’s exactly what he’s doing – still upstairs in their bed, sleeping, as if the babies aren’t crying and the dogs aren’t barking. Sansa is tempted to go upstairs and smack him in the head with a pillow, but she can’t do that right now because the doorbell has rung, echoing in the house, and the dogs are barking louder and Sansa glares up the stairs as she tries to calm a wailing George in her arms and goes to see who’s at the door.

 

“Nan,” she sighs with relief when she sees her boss on the front porch on the other side of the glass storm door and she is smiling and all Sansa feels like doing is bursting into tears at the sight of her. “Come in, come in,” Sansa hurriedly unclicks the door and pushes it open for Nan. “I just have to let Ghost and Lady out back and then I need to calm George down.” _And murder my husband_ , Sansa adds silently to herself.

 

“Here, dear,” Nan says and is already taking George from her arms. “Go see to the dogs. I’ve got this one.”

 

Sansa manages a smile and goes down the hall, ushering Lady and Ghost with her though all they want to do is sniff Nan. Finally, getting the dogs out into the back yard and closing the sliding door behind them, Sansa turns back towards the older woman. Nan seems to have a magic touch because George is already settled and quiet and he’s actually giving Nan a slobbery, gummy smile as Nan pulls faces down to the baby.

 

“I’m so sorry about the house. If I knew you were coming…” Sansa trails off, looking around helplessly.

 

Things have just been so hectic over the past few months and she and Jon have been pulled into a thousand different directions. Catelyn and Lyanna have come to help, but Sansa is stubborn and hasn’t wanted to take advantage of their aid. She’s an adult, a wife and a mother, and she should be able to keep her own house.

 

“Stop, Sansa,” Nan cuts in and gives her a frown for her even thinking of apologizing. “Now. Where’s Eleanor?” She asks and Sansa is able to smile, the urge to kill Jon fading – at least a little and for right now.

 

With George dozing in his bassinet and Eleanor now in Nan’s arms, Nan goes and sits in the family room and Sansa follows behind with mugs of steaming coffee. She can’t help, but sigh when she sits on the couch, getting off of her feet even if for just a few minutes.

 

“She is so beautiful,” Nan says with sparkling eyes, gazing down to the baby in her arms. “George is quite the looker, too,” she is sure to add and Sansa smiles like she always does when the babies receive a compliment. Nan then lifts her eyes to Sansa. “And how are you, dear?” She asks.

 

Sansa leans back into the cushion behind her, crossing her legs and holding the mug between both hands. “I don’t even know what day it is,” Sansa admits. “It will be good once I get back to work and get back on a schedule again.”

 

Nan is quiet at that, smiling faintly as she continues looking down to Eleanor. “You’re not going to be coming back to work, Sansa,” she then says matter-of-factly.

 

Sansa’s eyes widen at the woman’s words. “What? Am I… are you firing me?” Her heart begins racing.

 

Is Nan firing her for having babies? No, Nan wouldn’t do that. She’s not the sort. (What is the sort of person? Sansa wonders). And even if she _was_ the sort, Sansa can’t be fired for getting pregnant and having babies. That’s extremely against the law and besides, if the university didn’t want their female staff getting pregnant, they wouldn’t offer a generous maternity leave plan.

 

Nan looks to her with a soft smile and shakes her head. “No, Sansa, I’m not firing you. I’m just calling it like I see it. You won’t come back.”

 

Sansa sits up, frowning a little. “Of course I’m coming back,” she says. “I love working in the library and…” she trails off. She can’t imagine _not_ working in the library.

 

When she was younger, she had dreams of studying fashion and working on creating her own clothing line, but then she had Brandon and having a job that paid the bills and offered health insurance became so much more important. She had gone to college – before her time with Ramsay – and had majored in Library Sciences, her parents having convinced her to pursue something a bit more realistic, but she had minored in merchandising – just in case.

 

Getting a job as a librarian at Winterfell University is still one of the best things that could have happened to her and her job has provided well for her and Brandon these past few years.

 

And yes, she’s married now and since joining Baratheon Projects, Jon’s own paycheck has definitely seen a significant bump and she and Jon haven’t necessarily had the conversation, but she knows that with Jon’s job, he would be able to take care of the Snow family without needing Sansa to work as well. That’s how well Snow Construction is doing. She knows Jon isn’t the sort to consider it a burden if Sansa wants to stay home and if she does stay home, yes, they would be losing her paycheck, but they wouldn’t have the pay the campus daycare fee for Brandon and the twins.

 

She supposes they haven’t discussed it because Sansa has just assumed that she would be returning to work and Jon hasn’t broached the subject with her because as he has told her, it’s entirely her decision and he’s fine with anything her mind decides.

 

But then her mind goes to thoughts of her mom; how Catelyn was a stay-at-home and when Sansa was little, all she wanted to do was be just like Catelyn Stark.

 

What will people think if she doesn’t go back to work and stays home full-time? What will people think if she does go back to work and the babies are in daycare? She knows her mother and her mother-in-law would have no problem watching the babies, but all day, every day? That’s a lot to ask of someone, family or not.

 

And there she goes, thinking of what everyone will think. She needs to ask Dr. Tarth at her next session if they can work on this a bit more; working on Sansa’s constant worry of how others view her and think of her.

 

Nan stays through one cup of coffee and by the time she leaves again, the dogs are barking to be let in and it’s Eleanor this time that is crying and Jon is _still_ sleeping. Sansa knows that Snow Construction right now is working on a large new medical office in Wintertown and he has been working overtime on it, making him exhausted, but damn it. Sansa is exhausted, too, and she needs help.

 

The dogs are practically howling now, scratching to be let in, and Eleanor is wailing now. And, of course, upon hearing her sister starting to cry, George makes sure to join in as well.

 

Bouncing Eleanor in her arms, Sansa goes to the bottom of the stairs. “Jon!” Sansa calls out. “Get up!” She then kisses Eleanor on the head, shushing her and then going back into the family room to change her diaper. She can hear steps above and she nearly sighs with relief that Jon is finally moving around up there.

 

Once Eleanor has a fresh diaper, she calms down almost immediately and Sansa moves her to her activity mat for the time being before picking up George, who is still crying his heart out. She stands up. He’s dry, she’s just fed him his breakfast so he’s not hungry. It seems like he just wanted to cry because Eleanor was.

 

Sansa tries not to sigh with impatience as she walks around the room with George, trying to get him to stop. She can’t help, but glare in his direction when Jon _finally_ shuffles in, still in his pajamas and having the audacity to let out a yawn.

 

“You want me to let them in?” Jon asks, referring to the dogs.

 

“No. Please. Leave them out there so they scratch the siding to hell,” Sansa snaps.

 

She moves to set the gate they keep between the couch and wall so the dogs can’t come running into the family room when one or both babies are on the floor and Jon, not commenting on Sansa’s response, goes to the sliding door, Ghost and Lady bounding in and immediately pouncing on him.

 

“Where’s Brandon?” Jon asks through another yawn as he shuffles to the counter to get himself some coffee.

 

“George, please,” Sansa pleads with him, bouncing him and rubbing his back as he just keeps on crying. “My mom came to pick him up first thing this morning. She’s baking today and she said she needs her little helper with her in the kitchen.”

 

“Did I hear the doorbell earlier or did I dream that?” Jon asks another question before sipping his coffee.

 

Sansa is so tempted to throw something at him right now, but George is still crying and he’s keeping her hands full. “It was Nan,” she tells him through nearly grinded teeth. “George, please!” She can’t help, but snap now, but the baby just keeps crying, her tone doing nothing to soothe him.

 

And with the baby crying and not showing any signs of stopping, Sansa can’t help. She bursts into tears, too.

 

“Sansa.” Jon sets his coffee down and rushes over, moving the gate out of the way, and Sansa practically pushes George into his arms before she hurries away, nearly running up the stairs and collapsing face first onto their bed, crying into her pillow.

 

She doesn’t know how long she cries, but eventually, she does stop, but she doesn’t move to go back downstairs. She just wants to stay up here until she’s absolutely certain that she’s calm and collected. Just like Brandon can, the babies, no matter how young, feed off of her emotions and if she’s upset or overwhelmed or murderous towards their father, they are able to pick up on all of that.

 

She lays on her side, her face towards the window, and she listens. Jon has gotten George to stop crying and the dogs are calm and of course. When she’s the only one down there, it’s absolute pandemonium, but when it’s Jon, everything is just marvelous.

 

Sansa closes her eyes, nearly squeezing them shut tight to prevent any more tears from forming. She’s being ridiculous. She _knows_ she’s being ridiculous. She’s going to place full blame at the feet of her hormones.

 

The minutes tick by and she tells herself to get up and go back down there. She just can’t stay up here in bed for half of the morning. She’s not Jon.

 

She exhales. She needs to stop being so bitchy. Jon has been wonderful and just as involved and hands on. So, he has slept in a little for _one_ morning. What? Is she really going to crucify him alive for that?

 

“Sansa?” Jon’s voice appears in the doorway.

 

She doesn’t respond. She remains on her side, turned away from him, still looking out the window. After a moment, she can hear Jon approach. He comes around the foot of the bed to her side and she moves her legs just enough for him to have room to sit. He does.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his eyes soft and set on her. Arya and Robb both tease him for this look and calls them his puppy-dog eyes. They’re not wrong. That’s exactly what they look like.

 

Before Sansa can ask what exactly he is apologizing for – she has a list if he needs it – Jon continues.

 

“I shouldn’t have been up here, sleeping in, when you need help,” he says.

 

That gets Sansa to push herself up into a sitting position, drawing her legs up and hugging them to her chest. “Don’t say it like that, Jon. Don’t say it like I need help with our babies and I can’t possibly do it without you.”

 

Jon’s eyes widen just enough to show that he’s a bit surprised with her response.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” he frowns a little at her and then pauses for a moment, looking at her closely. “I think you’re just looking for things to be pissed about,” he concludes.

 

Sansa picks up one of their pillows and just as she had envisioned earlier, she smacks him up the head with it. Jon looks rightfully surprised at the move.

 

“I actually have a few good reasons to be pissed at you, Jon Snow. You’re up here, sleeping away, while the dogs are going crazy and the babies are crying and Nan came over, took one look at everything, and suggested that I probably shouldn’t come back to work.”

 

“Nan said that?” Jon asks, his tone showing that he clearly doesn’t believe that.

 

Sansa pauses. “Well, she didn’t say _exactly_ that. But I know she was probably thinking that I can’t handle it. And now you, coming up here and apologizing for not being there when _I_ need help, as if I can’t possibly take care of our children without the mighty Jon Snow helping me. You obviously think I can’t handle it either.”

 

Jon blinks at her for a moment and she can tell that he’s trying to make sense of what she’s snapping at him. And Sansa admits that she’s confusing herself as well. She _does_ need help. That’s why she had been so angry at Jon in the first place; because he was up here, sleeping, and not helping because she _had_ needed help.

 

Jon looks at her for another moment and then, without saying a word, he gets up and leaves the bedroom, heading back downstairs. Sansa doesn’t want them to, but her eyes choose to do whatever they want and right now, they want to flood with tears. So they do.

 

Sansa exhales a shaky breath and resting her elbows on her knees, she covers her face with her hands.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	14. Carry That Weight

…

 

 **Fourteen.** Carry That Weight.

 

“Brandon!” Sansa calls out when she hears the doorbell ring. “Stay right here, alright? I’ll be right back!”

 

“Yep!” Brandon calls back and continues playing on his playground set.

 

“Watch him, Ghost,” Sansa tells the dog and the dog goes at her orders, trotting from the deck and across the back yard to be closer to Brandon.

 

Sansa turns and goes into the house, peeking into the bassinets in the family room as she passes. Miraculously, George and Eleanor are still sleeping.

 

Down the hallway, she sees Lady standing at the window next to the front door, looking out and wagging her tail at whoever is standing on the porch. If Lady didn’t even bark when the doorbell rang, that must mean it’s someone from the family. They are the only people Lady doesn’t bark at when they come by. She will bark at Margaery or Tormund or anyone else no matter how well she knows them, but it seems as those on the Stark and Dayne family trees are on Lady’s approved list.

Sansa gives the dog a quick rub behind her ear as she peeks through the peephole in the door. Sure enough, it’s her mom and Sansa smiles the instant she sees her.

 

“Hi!” Sansa greets her happily once she’s unlocked the front door and unclicks the glass storm door.

 

“Hello, dear,” Catelyn smiles and Sansa and Lady step back so Catelyn can come inside. Mother and daughter exchange a kiss on the cheek and Catelyn then glances down the hall before back to Sansa. “I was going to knock instead of ringing the doorbell, but I didn’t know where you were and if you would hear it.”

 

“It’s alright,” Sansa says, still smiling. She’s so happy to see her mom. They see one another several times a week, but Sansa is always welcome to her mom’s company. “The twins are napping and Brandon and I were outside in the backyard. Would you like something to drink? I’ve made some tea.”

 

“I would love a cup,” Catelyn nods at that and Sansa heads back down the hall into the kitchen with Catelyn – with Lady – following behind.

 

As Sansa fixes her a cup, going to the refrigerator for the cream, knowing that her mother always takes a splash of cream in her tea, Catelyn softly approaches the bassinets, looking down to the babies with a smile.

 

“Should we go in the living room?” Catelyn suggests, meeting Sansa in the kitchen to collect her cup.

 

Sansa tilts her head slightly, her brow furrowed just a bit. “Alright,” she nods.

 

She looks out the window above the sink to see Brandon still playing on the playground with Ghost still with him, and taking her own cup of tea, she follows Catelyn through the dining room into the living room. She and Jon have finally bought a living room set – a couch, two armchairs, a coffee table and a rocking chair with end tables. Catelyn settles herself onto the couch and she pats the cushion next to her.

 

“What’s wrong?” Sansa can’t help but ask because her mother is _obviously_ up to something.

 

She is expecting her mother to act completely innocent and reply with a “Nothing, dear” even though Sansa knows that that’s not the truth.

 

But Catelyn takes a sip of her tea and then looks to Sansa. “Jon came by last night after he was done with work to talk with me and your father.”

 

Sansa can’t help but feel her back stiffen at those words. “What?” She manages to get out.

 

“He’s been planning something, but… he doesn’t know if he should do it now and he came to us for advice.”

 

“What is he planning?” Sansa asks, her brow furrowed once again.

 

“He was going to hire a maid to come here. He knows how not having the time to keep things clean has been getting on your nerves and he thought you might like the idea, but now, he thinks you might hate him for it.”

 

Sansa is still for a moment, her mother’s words reiterating in her head. And then she crumbles.

 

“Sansa,” Catelyn says gently and putting her own cup of tea down on the coffee table, she then takes Sansa’s cup to do the same before folding Sansa into her arms, holding her and rocking her as Sansa cries.

 

“I don’t… I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” Sansa manages to get out in the course of her weeping. “If I’m not crying, I’m furious at Jon and he hasn’t done anything except try to help me with everything. I feel like I have no control over anything right now.”

 

“Shhhh,” Catelyn rocks her gently and her hand rubs up and down her back. “There’s nothing the matter with you, Sansa. You just gave birth to twins and your body is still setting itself right.”

 

Sansa knows that her mom is right, but that doesn’t mean she has to necessarily like the words. She turns her head and rests it on Catelyn’s shoulder as she continues to cry.

 

“I’m such a mess,” she whispers.

 

“No, you’re not, love. You’re not at all,” Catelyn says to her in a soft, gentle voice.

 

Sansa isn’t sure how long she cries, but eventually, the tears begin to slow down and finally, she’s able to breathe like a normal human being again. When she lifts her head, Catelyn gives her a smile and wipes at her soaked cheeks.

 

“There we are. Feel better?” Catelyn asks.

 

Sansa nods honestly. “Our teas went cold.”

 

Catelyn smiles. “How about… after the twins wake up, we get them and Brandon together and we all go out for tea?” She suggests.  

 

Sansa blinks at her as if she’s absolutely insane. “You want to take a four-year-old and twin babies out for tea?” She asks slowly as if she can’t quite believe that her mother would even _suggest_ something like that.

 

“What? You’re never supposed to leave the house again because you have a few babies? We’ll give your father a call, too. See if he can get out of the office for a little bit and meet us,” Catelyn continues. “How about you go upstairs and wash up and I’ll keep watch over the babies and then we’ll head out in a little bit? Go on, Sansa.”

 

Sansa is slow to rise, still looking at her mother as if she has _completely_ lost it, but she does as she’s told and she goes upstairs into hers and Jon’s bedroom. He had attempted to make the bed that morning once he had finished getting himself dressed, before leaving for the jobsite, and she looks at it now. The comforter isn’t smoothed out like how she always makes sure it is and the throw pillows are in completely the wrong places (she arranges them by size), but looking at the bed – messily made, but so obvious that he had tried his hardest to make it like he knows how she does – it makes Sansa’s eyes flood with more tears.

 

He tries so hard to be wonderful to her and all she can do lately is yell and smack him with pillows.

 

After a somewhat quick shower, Sansa changes into one of the last clean pairs of jeans she has – she really has to do laundry for her, Jon and Brandon soon – and a grey Winterfell University long-sleeve tee-shirt. The weather is still warm outside – she can taste fall right around the corner though – and she decides to leave her hair down and let the sun dry it.

 

When she comes downstairs again, Brandon is inside now, too, and Catelyn has fixed him a lunch of toast smeared with peanut butter and banana slices. He is drinking from his cup of milk when he sees Sansa and he smiles at her with his eyes. Sansa smiles, too, and she comes to drop a kiss onto his head.

 

“Thank you for feeding him,” Sansa says to her mom, who is now moving around the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher and putting things away in their proper drawers and cabinets. “Oh, mom. You don’t have to do that. I’ll do it later when we get back.”

 

“Sansa.” Catelyn stops her actions to give Sansa a firm stare. “That is something you _do_ need to work on. You have to allow people to help you without immediately getting defensive or insisting you can do it yourself.”

 

“I do…” Sansa begins to say, but at Catelyn’s look to her, she closes her mouth again.

 

“You have more than enough people in your life who want to help you. You have three children. Two _newborns_. You are allowed to ask for help without thinking it’s a direct attack on you,” Catelyn tells her.

 

Sansa stands there for a moment and then sighs heavily. She sinks into a chair at the table as if deflating.

 

“You’re right,” she tells her mom.

 

“Of course, I am, dear,” Catelyn replies airily as she resumes emptying the dishwasher and Sansa smiles.

 

…

 

After closing the garage door behind him, Jon makes sure he has everything he needs before getting out of his truck. He stands there for a moment, just listening. Usually, he hears one of the dogs barking or one of the babies crying, but right now, it’s just quiet and he’s not sure if that should actually concern him or not.

 

Heading up the steps in the laundry room, he hears both the washing machine and dryer turned on, running through cycles, and he sits down on the bench to take his boots off.

 

“Daddy!” Brandon comes running into the room.

 

“Hey, Little Snow,” Jon gives a grin and opens his arms, Brandon running right into them and Jon hugging him. “Did you have a good day today?” He asks as he finishes unlacing and taking off his boots.

 

“We went for tea!” He exclaims as if nothing more exciting has ever happened to him before that.

 

“You went for tea?” Jon repeats.

 

“Yep!” Brandon takes Jon’s thermos from where he has set it on the floor for the moment and goes scampering out of the laundry room with it.

 

Jon stands, feeling a little sore from the job that day, and he follows Brandon out into the kitchen. He notices it immediately. There is an episode of _Project Runway_ on the television, there is something cooking in the kitchen, laundry is folded on the kitchen table, waiting to be put away, Brandon is putting Jon’s thermos into the dishwasher even though it’s washed by hand – but he doesn’t know that – and both George and Eleanor are on the floor in the family room, lying on their play mats, playing with their baby activity centers.

 

Despite all of this, things also seem calm. It feels like home.

 

He looks at it all and then looks to Sansa. She’s in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot on the stove.

 

“Hey,” Sansa smiles over at him. “Can you come try this for me?”

 

Jon brings himself from his slight stun to come to her. “Hey,” he says quietly, staring into her face as if he hasn’t seen her in such a long time and in some ways, he hasn’t.

 

“Hey,” she says again with the same smile. She then leans in and gives him a soft kiss on the lips.

 

It also feels like such a long since they’ve last shared a kiss.

 

She holds up a wooden stirring spoon and smiles. “Taste?” She request.

 

Jon takes a small taste from the edge of the spoon. He can’t help, but moan as it hits his tongue and Sansa giggles softly; lightly. It’s one of the best sounds Jon thinks he has ever heard and it’s been too long since Sansa has made anything remotely like it.

 

“That’s amazing,” Jon then tells her in case his reaction to it didn’t let her know.

 

“My mom’s been here, all afternoon, helping me. We’ve done so many loads of laundry and we were able to straighten up a few things and we even went to the market for actual food so we are having an actual dinner tonight. Beef and carrot stew over garlic mashed potatoes,” she tells him,

 

“You forgot you also went for tea,” Jon says and that makes Sansa laugh as she begins stirring the stew again. Jon can’t bring himself to take a step back from her and give her some space.

 

“Yes. _That_ was an adventure,” she says with a smile still across her lips and a laugh in her tone and just seeing and hearing it, it makes him smile, too. “I’ll tell you all about it once we’re sitting down for dinner.”

 

Jon can’t stop himself from leaning in and brushing some of her hair back, he kisses the corner of her jaw. He hears the soft exhale of breath past Sansa’s lips and her head tilts ever so slightly towards him.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I feel like ever since I’ve been pregnant… I’ve been so awful and then I’ll apologize and then I’ll be awful again.”

 

Jon shakes his head and she turns his head to look to his face. He kisses her softly. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sansa. I know… I mean, I _don’t_ know, but I know your body has been through so much and I know the hormones are still there and I try to help, but I just feel like I make things worse.”

 

It is Sansa’s turn to shake her head and she kisses him. “I just want to be the woman you married again.”

 

“You are,” he assures her and his voice is quiet, but his words are strong and Sansa closes her eyes, her forehead leaning in to rest against his. “Now, what do you need help with?”

 

He expects her to tell him that she’s gotten everything handled or that Catelyn and she have already seen to everything or it will be a complete turn and she’ll snap again. Jon admits that he’s bracing himself for any of those three possibilities.

 

“Well,” Sansa takes a deep breath as if she’s preparing herself; giving herself some kind of pep talk. “Can you take the laundry upstairs? I have it separated into piles. Yours and mine and then Brandon’s. You don’t have to put it away in the drawers. Just put it in the bedrooms?”

 

Jon grins as if that’s one of the best things anyone has ever asked of him. “You got it.”

 

Sansa smiles brightly in return and he leans in to give her another kiss before he goes to start helping.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	15. Run For Your Life

…

 

 **Fifteen.** Run for Your Life.

 

“Jon,” Sansa laughs.

 

“Mmmm?” Jon looks to her, his mouth full with his bite of corndog. He then looks to the top of George’s head, the baby in the Bjorn worn on Jon’s chest. “Oh,” he then gives a smile. Sansa laughs as he picks up the piece of corndog that has fallen onto the top of George’s hat-covered head and pops it into his mouth.

 

Sansa is wearing a baby Bjorn, too, with Eleanor inside. Making sure that the grey cap she is wearing is covering her head properly, Sansa gives her a soft kiss. She then looks to Brandon, standing between them with Lady at his side, and he’s eagerly bouncing on his toes. They had brought Ghost with them to one of Rickon’s track meets in the spring and it had… not gone well. The massive dog had barked once he had spotted Rickon and had tried to jump the fence, wanting to go run with him. Lady sits calmly and when Rickon runs past, she barks happily and wags her tail, but remains sitting.

 

Brandon stands on his toes, craning his neck up the path, but when he sees no runners are coming yet, he settles back on his feet. He turns his head back and looks up to his mom.

 

“I don’t see him,” he says with a little frown.

 

Sansa smiles and puts a hand on top of his own hat-covered head. It’s the first cross-country meet for Wintertown Academy and it’s here, on their own course. As always, Sansa and Brandon have come to cheer Rickon on with Brandon holding the sign he has made for his uncle this week – _FAST AS YOU CAN, UNCLE RICKON!_ – and she and Jon have decided that it’s a beautiful morning right at the beginning of fall and a perfect time for George and Eleanor to make their first appearance at their uncle’s meet.

 

“The meet hasn’t started yet, sweetling,” Sansa tells him. “We actually have a few more minutes before it does and then we’ll have to wait a few more minutes before Rickon comes by.”

 

Brandon frowns, clearly not liking that answer, but he doesn’t complain further – at least not right now. He looks up the path one more time, as if to just make sure that his uncle really isn’t coming, before turning towards Jon this time.

 

“Daddy? I have to go to the bathroom.”

 

Jon nods, chewing the last of his corndog. “Perfect timing. I have to go, too.”

 

Brandon smiles at that and then turns, holding his poster to Sansa. She takes it with a smile and then Jon holds out his hand for Brandon to take. Lady stays at Sansa’s side and Sansa watches as Jon, with George, and Brandon begin to make the trek back towards the school where the bathrooms are open for the meet. She can’t help but watch them with a smile. Her boys.

 

She then looks down to Eleanor, tilting her head downwards enough to see her eyes are open. “Hi, there, baby girl,” she says in a soft voice and kisses her head again. “Did you have a good nap? You haven’t missed anything yet.”

 

Eleanor opens her mouth and lets out a yawn and Sansa swears her heart melts. Everything her babies do, she thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world. She remembers she was the same way when Brandon was a baby. She hardly remembers anything about her pregnancy with him. There had just been too much going on in her mind to be honest besides the baby growing inside of her.

 

But when he was born, oh goodness, that is a day she will always remember. Not the labor, so much, but the seconds after that final push and she heard his cries for the first time.

 

_“It’s a boy!” Dr. Luwin declared what the ultrasound had already told her, but Sansa had burst into tears all the same because this time, it wasn’t just a black and white still image on a screen. This time, it was her baby and he was absolutely beautiful, even covered in blood and screaming his lungs out._

_Catelyn had been in the delivery room with her and she had been crying and brushing Sansa’s sweaty hair, matted to her face, back for her as the nurse quickly cleaned her son up before she came to place him in her arms. Sansa was crying and laughing all at once as she held her son in her arms for the first time. She remembers the way he had almost instantly calmed down when he felt her warmth; as if he knew that this was his mother and he would always be warm in her arms._

The twins’ birth had been just as painful – even more so since there were two of them – intense and a blur in her mind – until the babies were both out, crying their heads off and she and Jon were both crying at the sight of them.

 

The past few months have not been easy – certainly for her, but for Jon, too – but she thinks, maybe, the twins are four months old now and Sansa feels like the Snow family is _finally_ coming out on the other side.

 

Lady lets out a bark then, getting to all four legs and her tail swishing back and forth eagerly, and Sansa looks, smiling when she sees that it’s her parents making their way from the parking lot to their spot on the course.

 

“There she is!” Ned’s voice booms as he gets closer and can see which baby she is holding.

 

Sansa laughs, knowing that he’s not talking about her, and she gently pulls Eleanor from the Bjorn, passing her to her father, Ned more than happy to hold his granddaughter and he bounces her gently, smiling as Eleanor smiles. Sansa and Catelyn exchange kisses on the cheek and then leans in to kiss Eleanor’s cheek.

 

“Where are the Snow men?” Catelyn asks, looking around at the other people who have come out that morning for the meet. She is carrying two drink trays and she sets one down on the ground before pulling one of the paper cups with a plastic lid to hand to Sansa.

 

Sansa gives a beaming smile at that. She loves how that sounds. _The Snow men_. “Bathroom,” she answers before taking a sip from the offered cup. She instantly pulls it back with a frown. “This isn’t your hot chocolate,” she then looks to her mom, feeling confused.

 

Ned barks out a laugh, now rocking his body from side to side with Eleanor. “I told you, Catelyn. You wouldn’t be able to fool her.”

 

Catelyn takes her own sip from her own cup. “It’s not _that_ bad,” she says before showing them both by taking a sip and not even grimacing as she does.

 

“They used water. I can tell. Where did you get this?” Sansa says, her frown only deepening.

 

“Your father and I were running late and I didn’t have time to make my hot chocolate so we stopped at the coffee shop right across from the high school,” Catelyn says. “Stop pouting, Sansa, and drink your hot chocolate,” she then says, giving Sansa a pointed look with a raised eyebrow and Sansa sighs before obediently taking a sip from her own hot chocolate, Ned grinning as Sansa gives a grimace while swallowing. Catelyn rolls her eyes. “I have the most dramatic family,” she mutters to herself.

 

“Granma!”

 

They all look when they hear Brandon and see him pull away from Jon to come running towards them.

 

Catelyn bends down so Brandon can run into her hug and she gives him a fierce one, kissing his head. “I have brought you hot chocolate, my love,” she smiles to him and then hands him the smallest of the cups.

 

“Don’t I get a greeting?” Ned looks down to Brandon with his eyes twinkling and his smile teasing.

 

“Hi, granpa!” Brandon beams and hugs his leg, Ned chuckling and shifting Eleanor to one arm, he puts an affectionate hand to Brandon’s head.

 

Catelyn leans in to kiss Jon on his cheek and then kiss George on his while she hands Jon his own cup.

 

“Is he coming yet, mama?” Brandon asks Sansa, holding his cup with both hands and looking up the course path once again, on the lookout for his Uncle Rickon.

 

“Not yet, sweetling,” she smiles, but then she takes another sip of the watery hot chocolate and her smile slips immediately into a frown. This is an abomination and when she and her family get back home, she is going to be making them _real_ hot chocolate with milk.

 

“Blah!” Brandon suddenly exclaims, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “What’s this?” He demands, holding his cup up towards his grandma.

 

Sansa can’t help but laugh.

 

“It’s hot chocolate, Brandon,” Catelyn tells him, but Brandon only frowns at that and shakes his head.

 

Jon takes his own sip from his cup to taste it and when he does, he swallows it down slowly and does his best to give Catelyn a smile without too much of a grimace. “Delicious,” he offers and Ned lets out a laugh.

 

“The _most_ dramatic family!” Catelyn exclaims this time.

 

…

 

With a yawn, Jon flips the light off in the bathroom and comes into the bedroom. Sansa is already lying on her side of the bed, underneath the covers, but the lamp on the table next to the bed is still on, giving their bedroom a soft, warm glow. The rest of the house is dark and quiet – all three children asleep, Brandon in his room and George and Eleanor in the shared nursery (shared for now until they are a bit older and then will have their own bedrooms). Ghost is on their bed and Jon doesn’t have to check to know that Lady is sleeping in Brandon’s bedroom as she almost always is.

 

He yawns again and he slides into his side of the bed, flipping the covers up over his body, and he then moves closer to Sansa. After months of restless sleeps, Brandon now is finally able to make it through the night and the babies are sleeping longer now, too. He and Sansa are able to get at least seven hours, sometimes a full eight, every night now and that is an absolute Godsend. If they had gone much longer without getting a few solid hours of sleep, he had honestly been worried one of them would kill someone.

 

Jon closes his eyes for a moment and he slides his hand across her stomach over the tee-shirt she’s wearing. He can’t stop himself from moving his lips in and brushing them along her jaw line.

 

“Jon,” she whispers and she lifts a hand to his cheek.

 

He opens his eyes to look into hers.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers and that’s all she says, but Jon knows exactly what she is apologizing for.

 

Jon shakes his head slightly and gives her s soft kiss on the lips. “You don’t have to apologize, Sansa.”

 

“I just… my body is still such a mess-”

 

Jon cuts her off with another soft kiss, his hand lifting from her stomach to rest on her own cheek. “It’s not. I know it’s not.”

 

“It is,” she insists. “You haven’t seen it since before I gave birth. There’s… flab and stretch marks and-”

 

Jon kisses her again, letting her words die on her tongue.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he tells her, his eyes staring into hers.

 

“You really have to stop doing that,” she informs him and Jon just smiles, brushing his nose against hers.

 

“Stop what?” Jon wonders.

 

“Stop thinking I’m beautiful all of the time. You’re just setting me up for unrealistic views that if someday, I weigh three hundred pounds, you’ll still find me beautiful.”

 

Jon rears his head back at that. “Wait. That’s your plan, too? _I_ was planning on spending the later years of my life, horribly obese.”

 

Sansa rolls her eyes, but she’s giggling even as she gently thumps his shoulder.

 

“No, no, this is good,” Jon insists. “This is why we had children, after all. They can take care of all six-hundred pounds of us.”

 

“Stop,” Sansa says, laughter still bubbling in her throat. “I’m serious, Jon.”

 

“And you don’t think I am?”

 

“You can’t tell me that I’m beautiful all of the time,” she informs him.

 

“Who says?” He frowns a little, propping himself up on an elbow, looking down to her.

 

“It’s just not natural,” she continues without answering his question. “A man can’t possibly think that a woman is beautiful _all_ of the time. You don’t think it would, but it puts a lot of pressure on me.”

 

Jon’s frown deepens and Sansa lifts her fingers to attempt to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows.

 

He’s clearly wanting to say something and he’s clearly thinking his words through before he finally says everything that’s on his mind. He keeps looking down to her and frowning and Sansa nearly squirms at the intensity of which he’s looking at her. Her fingers slide from his brow to go to his cheek, her fingers now scratching through his beard lightly. And despite him knowing that she’s doing her best to distract him, Jon’s eyes flutter shut nonetheless. Sansa scratching his beard like this is a weakness of his. And she knows it, too.

 

“I love you,” he is able to break through his wife’s intoxicating touch enough to tell her.

 

“I love you, too,” Sansa smiles softly up at him, her heart fluttering in her chest as it usually does when Jon is staring at her like he is now and tells her those words.

 

For so long, she had dreamed of this kind of life, but had never allowed herself to hope or think she would ever actually have it for herself. Sansa supposes that that’s the deep-down reason why she doesn’t want Jon to always tell her that she’s beautiful. She supposes that deep down, she still can’t believe that this is real or that this is her life or that Jon is her husband who loves her.

 

That’s another thing she should speak with Dr. Tarth about at their sessions.  

 

Maybe she needs to try to explain that to Jon, too.

 

Jon lowers his head down and presses his lips to hers. This time, Sansa meets his kisses with her own, her fingers sliding back into his hair as her lips part, inviting him, and Jon dips his tongue in to meet hers.

 

Their lips part, both breathless, and Sansa’s fingers are still tangled in his hair when he lifts his head once again to look down to her.

 

“Is it okay if we just make out tonight?” She asks.

 

“Fuck, yes,” Jon breathes out and Sansa smiles as he lowers his head almost immediately and his lips begin pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of her throat, Sansa’s eyes fluttering shut and moaning.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and still loving this world!
> 
> PS - Jon and Sansa "reconnect" in the next chapter and I can't wait for the reveal of that title chapter :)


	16. Come Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never consider writing smut my strength so I'm sorry if this chapter is crap. Thank you so much though for still reading as I keep plugging away in this universe!

…

 

**Sixteen**. Come Together.

 

Jon looks to the watch on his wrist for the fifth time in as many minutes. He then looks to Tormund, Edd and Val, all working on their various tasks. It’s Friday afternoon – almost four o’clock. He knows they won’t complain if he calls it a day. It’s not like they haven’t put a full day of work in. And to be honest, Jon is hardly paying attention to his work anymore. Smoothing drywall plaster is the last thing on his mind.

 

His phone dings and Jon steps back from the wall he’s working on to tug off his gloves and then pulls the phone from his back pocket. It’s from Sansa and when he sees what she’s texted him, his mind is definitely no longer on work.

 

_Just dropped the kids off at my parents for the night. Do you want anything special for dinner?_

Jon doesn’t hesitate in his reply. _You._

Sansa texts back a moment later with the blushing, smiling emoji and Jon smiles, too, before slipping his phone back into his jeans pocket. He then turns towards the rest of his team.

 

“Alright. I’m calling it a day,” he announces to them. “It’s Friday. We’ve been working since seven and I, personally, am exhausted.”

 

“Thank the Gods,” Tormund immediately says, tugging the face mask down from around his mouth and nose that he’s been wearing as he works on sanding the room's baseboards on the other side of the room.

 

Val lets out a yawn as she stretches her arms over her head and Edd pulls out his phone to look at the time.

 

“We can catch the six o’clock,” he tells Val.

 

“Where are we going tonight?” Tormund asks, throwing his arm around Edd’s shoulders with a grin.

 

“ _We’re_ going to get something to eat and then we’re going to see a movie,” Val answers. “What are you doing tonight, Tormund?”

 

Tormund grins at her and then looks to Jon. “What are you we doing tonight, boss?”

 

“I’m spending some quality time with my wife,” Jon tells him, his lips twitching in a smile.

 

“Well, damn it,” Tormund grumbles. He then sighs. “I think I’ll give Margaery a call. See if she wants to make Robb jealous again.”

 

They begin cleaning up their equipment from the day and Jon is back to looking at his watch.

 

Sansa had actually been the one to make the suggestion for their plans tonight. She had asked her parents if they minded watching the three children for a few hours; a few hours which turned into the whole night, per Catelyn’s suggestion. Jon doesn’t want to think of how his mother-in-law is more than aware of Jon and Sansa needing some quality time together. Sansa would have asked Lyanna, but with Arthur’s schedule being so unforeseen at times, she would hate for her mother-in-law to find herself alone with three children – two babies – while her husband has to run out the door for work.

 

“I can make dinner and chocolate cake for dessert,” Sansa had said when she had presented Jon with the idea. “And we could maybe do something more than make out?” She had sounded unsure then; as if not entirely certain that Jon would be in favor of anything.

 

Jon had wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her until she had no doubts that he was certainly in favor of doing absolutely anything with her. He knows these past few months haven’t been easy – not just on him, but especially on Sansa – as she fights through the post-partum depression that he’s read about without letting her know that he’s been reading up on it, but he feels like they’re finally coming through the tunnel, out on the other side. Sansa has been more like the Sansa he knows and she is smiling and laughing more and together, they seem to finally be getting their family into some semblance of a routine.

 

He’s been fine with their make-out sessions. Honest, he’s been just fine with them. Any way he can be with Sansa, he will gladly take it, but at the idea of them doing something a little bit _more_ tonight, well, Jon admits that he’s not putting his equipment away as nicely as he usually does.

 

Out in the parking lot, he says good-night to Val and Edd before they get in their cars to drive off and he then turns to Tormund, who has stopped outside his own car to light a cigarette.

 

“Tormund,” Jon says and the man instantly looks to him. “If you don’t have anything to do tonight… call me if you’re going to-”

 

“No worries, boss,” Tormund gives him a little smile and shakes his head.

 

Jon knows he’s not Tormund’s sponsor, but that doesn’t mean that Tormund isn’t one of his closest friends and no matter how long an alcoholic has been sober, boredom can always be a possible disaster waiting to happen. Yes, he has plans with Sansa tonight, but if Tormund needs him, Jon knows that Sansa will more than understand if Tormund needing him cuts into their own night.

 

“I mean it, Snow,” Tormund assures him. “I’ve already sent a text to Margaery. She’s having some jewelry party tonight and she told me to come. I guess she invited Sansa, too, but Sansa already has _important_ plans.” He gives him a grin at that and Jon actually feels the back of his neck flush.

 

“You know, I think those kinds of parties, if you attend, you’re expected to buy something,” Jon says with a smile as he unlocks his truck.

 

Tormund snickers, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke from between his lips. “What? I don’t look like a jewelry kind of guy to you?”

 

Jon smiles, too. “Give me a call if you need me. I mean it, Tormund.”

 

“I know. Thanks, boss.”

 

“Have a good night,” Jon says as he climbs into the truck behind the steering wheel.

 

“Oh, I know _you_ will!” Tormund calls out to him just as Jon closes the door behind him.

 

Once his phone is hooked up to the Bluetooth in the truck, he tells his phone to call home.

 

“Hi,” Sansa answers on the second ring. “Did you end work early today?”

 

“I did,” Jon confirms. “As for dinner, how about something simple? I’ll stop at the market and get some beef patties and burger buns. How does that sound?”

 

“That sounds perfect, to be honest,” Sansa says and he can hear her smiling from over the phone. It makes him smile, too. Thank the Gods for Sansa’s smiles. “Let me check.” He can hear her opening the refrigerator door. “We have cheese slices and ketchup and… pickles.”

 

“Works for me. Do we need anything else at the market while I’m here?” Jon asks as he turns into the market parking lot closest to their home.

 

“Well… we haven’t used them for a while so I don’t remember. Do we have condoms?”

 

Good thing he’s not driving anymore, Jon thinks to himself as he parks safely in an empty parking spot. There are certain words that Sansa says that just immediately have an effect on his body.

 

“I actually picked up a box a couple of days ago,” Jon confesses and Sansa laughs softly.

 

“My good little Scout, always prepared,” she teases him lightly.

 

“For a night like this? You bet your ass, I’m prepared.”

 

Sansa laughs again and Jon smiles, silently a bit relieved that she’s laughing at his obvious eagerness.

 

“Alright. I’m going to run in and I will be home very, _very_ soon,” Jon promises her.

 

“Can’t wait,” she replies and her voice is soft and almost breathless and Gods, Jon hopes that there are no lines anywhere in the market tonight because there’s no way he has the patience to wait much longer.

 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to knock any old women or little kids over and he’s able to get everything he and Sansa need for their dinner and get out of the market in a record fifteen minutes.

 

He’s pulling into their garage in another six and the big door hasn’t even closed all of the way before he’s out of his truck with the shopping bag, locking the doors behind him. As soon as he opens the door to the laundry room, Sansa is already there and he’s reminded of that night he came home and Sansa was waiting for him; the night she told him that she was pregnant. This evening, she stands there and she’s wearing a blue dress with a grey cardigan sweater and he loves when she wears blue. It makes her red hair pop even more and it always makes her look even more beautiful to him.

 

“Hi,” she smiles at him.

 

“Hi,” he exhales at the sight of her and putting the bag on top of the washing machine, he then draws her into his arms, Sansa letting out a soft laugh just before his mouth covers hers.  

 

Her arms slip around his shoulders and holds onto him as Jon’s arms tighten around her waist and Jon hears a moan and he’s not sure if it’s coming from her or him. Not that it matters. It certainly won’t be the last moan heard in his ears tonight.

 

“Stupid breathing,” Jon mutters as their mouths part and Sansa lets out breathless laugh, nodding in agreement. Even with his heart still racing and his lungs burning, Jon can’t let her go and he dips his head down, pressing his face into her throat.

 

“Ever since you mentioned cheeseburgers, I’ve been craving one now,” Sansa says even as her nose nuzzles against his ear and her fingers are rubbing circles on the back of his neck.

 

“We do need to eat,” Jon agrees. “Energy is going to be needed.”

 

She laughs at that and taking his hand, she turns and leads them both from the laundry room. Ghost and Lady are there, Sansa taking the shopping bag so Jon can crouch down, giving and getting a greeting from the dogs. Without the babies and Brandon there, the house is quiet. So quiet. It’s almost deafening – to go from so much noise and getting used to live with such a constant barrage of noise to go to almost nothing.

 

“How were the kids when you dropped them off?” Jon asks, standing up again. He sits down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table to untie his boots.

 

Sansa smiles as she unpacks the things from the bag that he’s purchased at the market. “We might have a struggle in actually getting the kids back from my parents tomorrow. I’m sure all three of them are getting ridiculously spoiled right now.”

 

Jon grins. “I’m sure one night with George and they’ll gladly give him back to us at least.”

 

That gets a laugh out of Sansa and Jon stands up, coming to her in the kitchen, wrapping her up in his arms again and kissing her. Sansa puts her hands on his cheeks and after a moment’s kiss, she pulls his face back gently and she gives him a soft smile, looking into his eyes.

 

“Feed me a cheeseburger, Jon Snow, and then you can take me upstairs,” she tells him.

 

“If I can make it that far,” Jon replies.

 

…

 

She moans softly, her fingers tangling in his hair that she has taken from the man bun as his lips scrape down her body. It feels a bit weird, to be lying on their bed with the door wide open – she half expects Brandon to run in at any second – but Jon’s mouth is so hot as he places wet kisses to every bit of her that he can reach and it’s doing a wonderful job of keeping her from being too distracted with thoughts of their kids.

 

Her cardigan sweater and dress are gone as are his jeans and socks already. All that remains are her bra, underwear, his tee-shirt and boxer briefs. She had been gnawing on her lip as he had gently lowered the zipper of her dress. He hadn’t seen her body in months now and she knows it’s not the same body anymore. She’s lost almost all of the weight – taking George and Eleanor for walks in their stroller with Brandon around the neighborhood has done more wonders than she would have ever thought – but she’s carried three children now. She doesn’t know if her body will ever be the same it was even just a year ago.

 

But she should have already known that she was worrying for nothing. When the dress slipped down from her body and Jon got his first good look of her, his eyes became almost black and it looked as if he wasn’t even breathing as he moved back in to her.

 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes against her stomach.

 

“I’ve missed you, too,” Sansa whispers back and Jon sighs heavily – as if with relief that she has said that – and he buries his nose into her belly button, his fingers curling into the waistband of her underwear.

 

She almost tells him that she doesn’t want him to. _That_ is a part of her that is definitely not the same as he probably remembers it, but she finds herself lifting her hips anyway and Jon tosses her underwear aside before gently parting her thighs.

 

“Jon,” she breathes his name and she doesn’t know if it’s to stop him or to hope he keeps going.

 

He keeps going.

 

She gasps when his mouth covers her completely, diving right in, and it’s been so, so long since she’s had his mouth between her thighs; she is instantly drenched and Jon moans at the taste.

 

“Jon,” she moans a bit louder, her fingers sliding back into his hair and her eyes sliding shut.

 

For as quickly as he had started, Jon seems to have decided to take his time, clearly wanting this to last as long as he possibly can. Before the twins and Sansa had had no issues with getting naked and making love with him, Jon would have preferred to spend hours just like this until Sansa was sobbing and had to physically push him away with her feet on his shoulders.

 

She doesn’t know if he plans on doing that tonight. It, after all, has been a long time for him, too, but right now, Jon is making love to her slowly with his mouth and fingers, being so gentle and yet, remembering all of the exact spots her body craves his touch and giving her exactly what she wants. He’s still the absolute best at this; not that Sansa has anything to compare him to. He’s been the only man to ever go down on her; the only man she has ever _wanted_ and has ever _imagined_ doing this to her.

 

It takes her by surprise; how quickly it comes upon her. It seems as if in no time, her heart is racing and she is feeling the tell-tale tingles sparking across her entire body. And then her body tightens and her fingers pull his hair as she cries out his name. Jon doesn’t move his mouth off of her, guiding her through her orgasm, moaning as he drinks her down.

 

She has almost forgotten how amazing Jon can make her feel.

 

Usually, he would go for a second (or third or fourth), but as Sansa has suspected, he’s been waiting for this night and Jon is not an impatient man, but he definitely is an eager one. He gets up on his knees, his beard glistening in the soft light of their bedroom _from her_ and he tugs off his tee-shirt, looking down to Sansa as she is laying, still splayed and panting, already feeling the slight droplets of sweat forming on her body.

 

Tossing his tee-shirt aside, he then bends over, pressing kisses to her stomach and ribs, moving upwards. His hand slips between her and the mattress and Sansa arches her back enough for him to unclasp her bra; giving it the same treatment as his tee-shirt and tossing it somewhere in the room. Sansa doesn’t even have time to think about how she is completely naked now before Jon’s body is covering hers once more, his mouth meeting hers and kissing her hungrily; Sansa matching his kisses with her own hungry ones.

 

“Jon. Jon,” she keeps moaning his name as she feels his hands and mouth everywhere.

 

When he trails his mouth down to her breasts and his tongue swipes across her nipples, he lets out a low moan then and she opens her eyes, watching as he does it again. It takes her a moment in her fogged over brain to realize that he’s tasting drops of her breast milk on his tongue and judging from the moans, he seems to like it. Sansa feels a flush across her cheeks at the idea of him liking the taste of it.

 

Jon sits up so quickly then to chuck of his boxer briefs and grab a condom from the nightstand table.

 

Once his body is over hers again, their eyes lock and Sansa smiles, lifting a hand to his cheek.

 

“I love you, Jon,” she tells him because she feels like lately, she hasn’t been saying that enough to him.

 

He dips his head down and presses his lips to hers. “I love you, too. Marry me?” He then asks with a smile.

 

Sansa lets out a laugh. “Yes,” she beams and he kisses her again, both smiling against each other’s mouths.

 

When he begins to push inside of her, Sansa moans and Jon releases a shaky breath and they kiss one another as Jon pushes forward until he’s embedded completely inside of her. Sansa’s hands slide through his hair, keeping it back from his face, and her legs wrap around his waist. Jon usually kisses her – on the lips, the sides of her throat, her breasts – anywhere his mouth can reach – but tonight, as he begins to move, he keeps his eyes locked with hers, looking nowhere else. And with his eyes staring into hers, Sansa finds herself unable to look away, too.

 

She has almost forgotten how intense making love with Jon can feel; to feel him so deep inside of her, to have their bodies connected as close as two bodies can be connected, the way her heart beats in these moments for this man and this man alone; it’s almost all so overwhelming.

 

She never wants to forget again.

 

It’s as if Jon can read her mind then because his lips drop to hers and they kiss breathlessly before his speed picks up, steady and just hard enough to make her gasp and moan and Jon’s face drops to press to the side of her throat, grunting and giving her shivers as he pants in her ear.

 

“So good, Sansa,” he breathes against her skin. “You feel so, so good.”

 

Sansa tightens herself around him, gasping his name as he pounds into her in response, grunting her name.

 

That’s another thing she’s been worried about, to be honest. After three children, she has worried that she wouldn’t feel good to him anymore; not as tight or able to get as wet. But she can _hear_ how wet she is and the obscene sound it makes as their bodies rock together makes her blush, but it also makes her moan at how dirty it is. Gods, she’s missed being dirty with Jon, too.

 

“Jon!” She cries out as her orgasm crashes into her and a few seconds and a few more thrusts later, she can feel his own release, he slamming into her one more time, grunting and then breathing out her name before he collapses heavily on top of her before he can catch himself.

 

She doesn’t mind and keeps her arms around him so he can’t move off of her.

 

For a few seconds afterwards, they lay there, skin sticky and chests heaving up and down. She can still feel the last of the tremors sparking through her body.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Sansa is the one to say first this time.

 

Jon lifts his head from her shoulder then and she gives him a smile, pushing his hair back again as he slowly swipes a thumb across the apple of her cheek.

 

“No matter what, you’re stuck with me forever, Sansa Snow,” Jon promises and Sansa smiles as he lowers his face to kiss her.

 

Forever has never sounded better.

 

…


	17. Tomorrow Never Knows

…

 

 **Seventeen.** Tomorrow Never Knows.

“Wipe.”

 

“Wipe,” Brandon hands Jon a wipe from the container.

 

Jon wipes Eleanor’s bottom as she sucks on her pacifier, turning her head to look out the back window, seemingly bored with this entire process. He then tosses the wipe on top of the dirty diaper.

 

“Powder,” he holds out his hand.

 

“Powder,” Brandon smiles as he hands Jon the container of baby powder.

 

He sprinkles some onto Eleanor’s bottom, she turning her head back to look to him, and Jon gives her a smile. He’s in love with the twins’ personalities and how different they already are. George, obviously, is the more vocal of the two. He is also very perceptive of those around him. When he does something and it makes Jon or Sansa or anyone else laugh, he will do the same thing over and over again, looking for the same reaction.

 

Eleanor on the other hand, Jon loves to call her his judgmental baby. Jon’s not the sort to have social media, but since getting married and having three kids, he’ll post the occasional picture on his once-neglected Instagram account. He doesn’t still post that many. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone on the internet able to see pictures of his kids, but there are some and Eleanor has her own tag now. #judgementalbaby

 

She smiles, of course, but she _loves_ to frown. Everything she sees, after a moment of studying it, her judging sets in and most of the time, she seems to be absolutely unimpressed with everything she sees. The girl is only six months into this world and it’s as if she finds the whole thing to be lacking.

 

Honestly, she cracks Jon up.

 

Once Jon has fastened Eleanor’s fresh diaper on and buttons her onesie back into place, Eleanor immediately rolls away onto her stomach as if to remove herself from the ordeal as quickly as she can. Jon smiles and he grabs the soiled diaper and the wipe, standing up.

 

“Thank you for helping,” he smiles down to Brandon.

 

“Yep!” Brandon smiles in return and follows after Jon as he heads into the garage to throw both things out in the trashcan kept in there until they roll it to the end of their driveway every Thursday for garbage pickup.

 

Jon just smiles at him. Brandon has developed a habit lately of following Jon whenever he gets home from work until it’s time for him to go to bed. Neither Jon or Sansa know exactly why he has begun doing it, but they both know it’s probably just one of those “kid” things and even if they ask, they won’t get an explanation. And it’s not like it bothers Jon. He likes it – though it is a bit odd to go to the bathroom and open the door to find Brandon waiting for him right outside.

 

Back in the house, in the kitchen, Sansa is just finishing up a pan of her lemon bars. Jon kisses her cheek as he passes her on the way to the sink to wash his hands and Sansa smiles.

 

“Mama! Pizza!” Brandon exclaims and she turns to see him standing in front of the oven, looking through the window to see their dinner cooking inside. She then looks to the timer.

 

“Four more minutes, Brandon,” Sansa tells him and he instantly frowns at that.

 

The doorbell rings then, Ghost and Lady immediately begin barking and Jon grabs a dishtowel to dry his hands as he heads down the hallway to answer it, Brandon right behind him.

 

“Hey,” Jon greets as he opens the door and unlocks the storm door for Robb to come in, the dogs eagerly sniffing him.

 

“Hey, you about ready?” Robb asks. “Hey, Brandon,” he then smiles at his nephew, holding out his hand.

 

“Hi, Uncle Robb!” Brandon exclaims happily, giving Robb’s hand a slap.

 

“Just about. I have to run upstairs and brush my teeth,” Jon says and drops the towel on Robb’s shoulder before heading up the stairs, Brandon following after him.

 

Robb heads down the hallway into the kitchen where Sansa is now covering the lemon bars with tinfoil and brother and sister smile at one another and when Robb sees what she has made, he comes straight to the counter without pause. He drops the dishtowel from his shoulder onto the counter and leans down towards the pan, looking at it before looking to Sansa.

 

“Do you think I should try one?” Robb asks. “Just to make sure that they’re not off?”

 

Sansa frowns at him. “I’ve never made an _off_ lemon bar before in my life, Robb Stark.” She turns to the other end of the counter and picks up another tin-foil covered dish. “I made you your own batch,” she tells him.

 

Robb takes the dish, exploding into a grin. “You are a goddess, Sansa,” he tells her, completely serious, and usually, Sansa knows that she would probably roll her eyes at that, but Robb is just _so_ serious about it, she lets out a laugh this time instead. Robb brings the dish up to his nose to inhale deeply and he then puts the tray down. He looks to Sansa and it looks like he wants to say something, but he’s hesitating; trying to figure out exactly how to word his thoughts.

 

“What is it, Robb?” Sansa asks, thinking that it’s probably some relationship drama with Margaery.

 

Sansa honestly doesn’t know how those two have so much drama without getting exhausted. Sansa gets exhausted just _hearing_ about their relationship. But it just shows that those two fit because they seem to actually like the drama. Thank goodness Jon is just as low-key as she prefers to be. She, personally, has had enough drama to last her for five lifetimes.

 

“Are you okay?” Robb asks her quietly, catching her by surprise, feeling her eyes widen. “I was having dinner at mom and dad’s the other night and they said… well, they didn’t tell me _everything_ , but they told me enough and… I should come around here more.”

 

After a moment of her brain catching up, she then shakes her head slightly and smiles softly. No matter how old they are, Robb takes his duty of big brother very seriously. Always has; always will. Sansa knows that and it’s one of the reasons why she loves him so much. She couldn’t ask for a better big brother.

 

“You have your own life, Robb,” Sansa tells him. “And yes, I’m okay now. It was… well…” she looks to Robb and he’s staring at her intently, listening to her, and she gives him a small smile. “I’m okay now. I’ve told Jon though that we’re going to be waiting for quite a while before our next one.”

 

“You’re planning on another one? Three isn’t enough?” Robb asks, but he’s smiling at the idea of his sister and best mate giving him more nieces and nephews. He likes being the cool Uncle Robb. He, personally, can’t imagine himself as a father – not at this precise moment in his life – and right now, he likes spending time with his nieces and nephews before he can leave to go back to his _quiet_ flat.

 

Sansa smiles, too, and he feels awful that he hasn’t been around enough to notice her bout of depression after the twins, but the smile she gives him right now is a true Sansa smile.

 

“We have a few more Beatles names we’d like to use,” Sansa says and then laughs when Robb rolls his eyes at that. He honestly expects his next nephew to be named Maxwell. “Go see your niece and nephew,” she tells him and Robb grins at the suggestion before going to do just that.

 

The twins are able to sit up now and rolling themselves around and scooting around on their butts, it seems like they’re going to be starting to crawl in another month or two. Robb is sitting on the floor with them in the family room, an episode of _Hubba Bubba Hotel_ on the television, and he’s playing with their toys scattered around when the oven timer begins to beep.

 

“Brandon!” Sansa calls out.

 

“Pizza!” They can hear him shout from upstairs and then his running feet.

 

Robb continues playing with the twins; well, George. Eleanor seems to have no interest in him at all.

 

He looks up again when he hears Sansa’s soft laugh and he sees that Jon is in the kitchen now. His hair is down this evening and Sansa brushes it back from Jon’s face, smiling as he says something to her in a low voice with a slow grin spreading across his face. Robb looks to his sister’s smile.

 

She looks happy. She seems happy. Robb hates that he’s been too busy lately to come around more to see that she _wasn’t_ happy. He’s going to fix that though. He swears to himself that he’ll be coming over a lot more from now on. Just because his sister is married – and even though he knows Jon would do anything to take care of Sansa – that doesn’t mean that Robb stops being her big brother who wants to look after her. Sansa will always be his little sister and he’s always looked out for her. He’s not going to stop doing so now.

 

…

 

“You can bring your wife and children if you’d like,” Bowen Marsh, the man who runs the Wednesday night AA meetings, adds after he tells Jon the news. “It is a cause for celebration, Jon.”

 

Jon nods, his mind still processing what Bowen has told him. It _is_ a cause for celebration. He’s not denying that. He just doesn’t want to make too big of a deal out of it because… well, he can still fall off the wagon no matter how many years it’s been. For alcoholics, there is no rest. They can never lax because there is always that possibility that they can slip and fall back to the bottom.

 

“Thank you, Bowen,” Jon remembers to say, giving the smallest of smiles.

 

Bowen smiles, too, and claps a hand onto Jon’s shoulder. “And make sure she makes her lemon bars.”

 

As Bowen goes to speak with someone else, Jon looks to the table where those who attend the meetings bring food and spread it out for everyone else. He’s not sure how it happened – someone brought something one time and then the next time, someone brought something else and soon, the AA meetings also became a potluck dinner for everyone in attendance. He can see that Sansa’s dish of lemon bars that she makes every Wednesday night for Jon to take to his meetings is empty except for a few remaining crumbs.

 

He’s going to tell Sansa the news when he gets home tonight, but will he want her to come next week? She’s never been to a meeting. Jon’s never asked her to come and Sansa has never suggested it. He likes to keep these meetings separate from their family and Sansa knows that. He likes to keep this part of himself apart from her and Sansa understands that. There are parts of her horrific abuse that she’s never shared with him and Jon has never asked. He knows that if he did, Sansa might hesitate, but she would tell him in the end, but Jon will never ask and it’s the same with these meetings. If Sansa asks to come, Jon might hesitate before telling her that she can come with him, but he knows that Sansa will never ask.

 

Five years sober though and getting his five-year chip at the next meeting… Sansa sitting in one of these chairs and clapping and beaming as Jon gets up to receive it when Bowen calls for him, Jon can see it already.

 

There’s been some close calls of nearly falling from that wagon and the past five years have not been easy, but he’s made it this far and Sansa and their kids are the main reason for it. Sansa would want to see Jon receive his five-year chip; of that, Jon has no doubts.

 

He looks and sees Robb at the table, helping himself to a few leftovers to take home, and Jon smiles a little. Robb comes with him to his meetings every Wednesday and though Jon knows that Robb does it because he’s Jon’s best mate and they love each other and Robb supports him, Jon knows that the _real_ reason Robb comes every week is for the potluck.

 

He then sees Gilly standing at her chair, slowly putting on her coat. She hadn’t shared that evening even though Bowen had asked if she would like to. Instead, she just shook her head and remained sitting and the only time she’s spoken that evening was to say hello to Jon and Robb when they had both arrived earlier. Jon doesn’t know if something is going on with Gilly. She hasn’t told him anything and she hasn’t called for help. Still, Jon thinks of Osha and how his sponsor always seems to just _know_ when Jon needs her – sometimes before even Jon, himself, knows – and she’s the kind of sponsor Jon wants to be for Gilly.

 

Gilly might not be saying anything, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have anything to say.

 

Jon grabs his own coat on the way to her. “Hey,” he says and Gilly spins towards him, looking surprised.

 

“Hi,” she says and gives him the smallest of smiles that looks like even that is a challenge for her to make.

 

“You want to drive me home?” Jon then asks. “You can come over and see Sansa and have some hot chocolate.” The suggestion is innocent enough and if that’s all it turns out to be, it might still be something good. Gilly and Sansa are both women with that quiet strength that neither of them even are aware, most of the time, that they have it, but they have seemed to see it in one another and have become friends because of it. And if Gilly doesn’t want to talk about what’s on her mind, Sansa’s hot chocolate has the power of helping with damn near anything.

 

Gilly looks at him and then glances to Robb at the table before back to Jon.

 

Jon’s not sure how she’s going to respond; if she can see his true intentions of asking, but then, she nods and Jon finds an instant relief of pressure in his chest. He’s never known how good of a sponsor he is to Gilly. He compares himself to Osha and since the woman is the best sponsor he could ever ask for and Jon can never imagine himself being on the same level, he’s always convinced that he’s letting Gilly down in one way or another. But her agreeing to come over for hot chocolate – while it might seem small – is a victory all the same and Jon is going to declare it as such.

 

…

 

“Sam and I are fighting.”

 

The words come after Gilly has pulled into the Snow driveway and has turned off the engine, but before either have gotten out of the car.

 

Jon turns a bit in his seat to look at her. “Fighting about what?”

 

He thinks he already knows the answer, but it’s better if Gilly tells him.

 

She looks down to her hands. “Sam wants another baby and I don’t. He knows _why_ I don’t and it’s like he doesn’t even care. Little Sam was an accident and I was completely terrified the whole time. I was still drinking before I found out I was pregnant… I can’t have another baby even if we plan this time for one.”

 

Jon thinks that over for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing and upset her. “Why don’t you want to have another baby?” He asks.

 

Gilly sighs and gives him a look then as if he already knows; and he does, but he wants to hear Gilly say it.

 

“You know _why_ , Jon.”

 

“Sansa and I had babies,” he then chooses to remind her.

 

“And aren’t you scared? Aren’t you terrified that George or Eleanor or _both_ will, one day, start showing signs that they’re going to fuck their lives up, too?”

 

Jon doesn’t answer right away. Yes, he’s scared of that. There’s no reason to lie and say that he isn’t. He’d have to be an idiot to _not_ worry about that. But, he also feels – after months of coming to accept it – that’s no way of living a life. So afraid of the possibility of something that may or may not happen.

 

“Well, sure,” Jon answers with a slight shrug. “But technically, all three of my kids can fuck up their lives without any help from me or Sansa.”

 

Gilly looks at him and doesn’t say anything to that so Jon continues.

 

“Brandon… he’s my son, but I… it’s not my sperm that helped make him, but he’s my child as much as George and Eleanor are my children. What if George and Eleanor turn out fine, but Brandon starts to like drinking a little too much? What you’re saying is that Brandon’s going to be perfectly fine because he doesn’t have the sperm of a man who goes to AA meetings.”

 

Gilly is quiet, looking at him and not replying.

 

“And what if George turns out fine, but Eleanor starts to do lines of coke? Is my sperm responsible for one twin, but not the other?”

 

Gilly sighs heavily and resting her head against the seat behind her, she closes her eyes. “I’m so fucked up, Jon,” she whispers. “It’s not just with the drinking, but my dad and what happened-”

 

“You’re a survivor, Gilly,” Jon cuts in. “You’re strong as hell and brave and you kick ass every single day.”

 

Jon feels like he can say the exact same things to Sansa.

 

“And it’s okay to be scared and it’s okay that you and Sam are fighting, but you can’t be so scared that you don’t move forward because if you just stay in this spot, your dad and your drinking, both of them wind up winning over you anyway in the end.”

 

The car is quiet after that. Gilly’s eyes stay closed and Jon can only hope that she’s actually heard what he’s said; he has no idea what else to say. It’s obviously not his place to pressure Gilly into having, or not having, another baby. It’s ultimately a decision – hopefully – she and Sam will agree to together. Jon just doesn’t want to think that her alcoholism is all she is. She’s so much more and it’s taken him a hell of a long time before he realized that; but he also knows that even though they’re fighting, Sam is Gilly’s cheerleader just as Sansa is his and when someone has an unwavering cheerleader, they honestly feel like they can do anything no matter the mistakes they have already made in their life.

 

Sansa needs to be there as his wife and cheerleader to see him as he gets his five-year sober chip.

 

“You’re a really good sponsor,” Gilly breaks the silence with the quiet proclamation.

 

“I only care about being a good sponsor to you,” Jon tells her while feeling a tightness in his chest as her words settle over him; words that mean more to him than she might ever be able to understand.

 

She opens her eyes at that and turning her head, she gives him a small smile. “Can we go inside and get some of Sansa’s hot chocolate?” She asks.

 

Jon breaks into his own smile. “Absolutely.”

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading. For those who are, I think this story is just going to have a few more chapters (there's a couple more things I want to write for this one) and then I might be putting this world to bed for a while. It means so much to me that some of you have loved these particular stories as much as you have.


	18. The Long and Winding Road

…

 

**Eighteen.** The Long and Winding Road.

 

“Here we are,” Jon says as he carefully carries the steaming cup of hot chocolate from the kitchen into the family room where Sansa is curled onto the couch. “Can you sit up, love?”

 

Sansa, wrapped in a blanket, sits up, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks, and Jon lowers himself next to her, extending the cup of hot chocolate to her, and Sansa manages a small smile as she takes it into her own hands. Jon kisses her on the forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

 

“Have you decided which season?” He asks.

 

“Thirteen,” Sansa answers before blowing into the cup before taking a slow, cautious sip.

 

“That’s surprising,” Jon says with a little smile at her before getting things set up. _Project Runway_ season 13 hadn’t been released on DVD, so Sansa had wound up buying a Hulu package because the later seasons were loaded to there. Jon now goes into their Hulu account on their television to bring up the episodes. “Any which one in particular?”

 

He is leaning forward with the remote and he turns his head to look back to Sansa.

 

She looks at the episode titles, thinking. “ _The Highest Bidder_ ,” she decides.

 

“Yessss,” Jon smiles as he selects the episode and Sansa finds herself smiling, too.

 

Jon gets the episode playing and he then settles back next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders and Sansa snuggling into his side.

 

“Alright?” He asks her quietly.

 

Sansa looks to his eyes and nods. “Alright,” she says and he kisses her forehead again.

 

They watch the episode for a few minutes, Jon’s thumb rubbing her shoulder and Sansa sipping her hot chocolate. She sighs softly and Jon turns his head towards her, leaning in and kissing her on the temple.

 

“I haven’t had a nightmare in so long,” she says in a quiet voice; almost too quiet to hear over the television.

 

Jon takes the remote and mutes the screen, looking at her. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

 

She pauses, hesitating, and then shakes her head. “No. I… I’m not ready to tell you everything about… him.” She doesn’t say his name. She never says his name out loud. She thinks it, yes, but saying Ramsay’s name out loud, Sansa feels as if that gives him some sort of power from even his grave.

 

“That’s okay,” Jon assures her with the tiniest of smiles so she knows he means it. “In the morning, do you want to call Dr. Tarth?”

 

Sansa pauses again, but then nods her head. She sighs then and sinks further back into the couch, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. “Do you ever think back to when we were first seeing each other?” She asks then and the question is unexpected to them both. “Like, if we hadn’t broken up and had been together this whole time? Everything would have been completely different for the both of us and we wouldn’t have gone through nearly as much as we did while apart.”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Jon says with another tiny smile and it makes Sansa give him a small smile in return. He settles back next to her, also looking to the ceiling. “I should have shouted from the roof that I was with you as soon as you said yes when I asked you out.”

 

Sansa agrees silently with that. “ _Did_ you ask me out?” she turns her head on the cushion so she’s looking at him, a smile tugging at her lips, and Jon is beginning to smile, too.

 

She knows that he remembers that night as well as she does; as if it had just happened the night before. They had been on the couch, talking – Sansa having visited Robb and Jon’s flat at university and after a night out, Robb had stayed behind and Jon had volunteered to walk with Sansa back. She doesn’t remember exactly what they were talking about; one of those kinds of conversations about anything and everything.

 

But she remembers the way Jon was looking at her; like she was beautiful and he had never seen anything more beautiful than her. No one had ever looked at her like Jon had looked at her that evening. She doesn’t remember who kissed who first, but she remembers that once their lips touched, they didn’t part again and from the couch and kissing, they literally fell into Jon’s bed, still kissing.

 

“Fine,” he relents. “There was no asking, but there should have been and I should have told everyone that I was asking you out.”

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything, but holding her mug in one hand, she slips her other hand into his, lacing her fingers through his. Her hand is warm from the hot chocolate and his hand is warm, too.

 

“If we had been together for this whole time though, there’d be no Brandon,” Jon is the one to say.

 

“I think about that when I think about this,” Sansa admits. “Whenever I get so sad and think about those years and how we could have been together for all of that time, I’ll look at Brandon and he’s here because we _weren’t_ together. And now we have George and Eleanor to make up for that time.”

 

Sansa smiles just from something as simple as hearing their names. “And then we’ll have more to follow.”

 

Jon turns his head now on the cushion to look at her, his smile growing wider. “Yeah?”

 

Sansa nods. “I know I was such a mess for a few months and I can’t imagine you _ever_ wanting to subject yourself again to a post-partum Sansa-”

 

Jon leans in, cutting her words off with a kiss. “Of course, I want more of your babies, Sansa.”

 

She smiles at that, her eyes still closed and her nose brushing against his. “Well, _technically_ , I’d be having them.” Her eyes open to look right into his. “But I think once the twins get potty-trained in a couple of years… we’d start working towards the fourth maybe when they’re around three or so?”

 

Jon sighs then as if he’s never heard anything better and he kisses her again. “Max and Julia,” he whispers and Sansa laughs softly while nodding her head. “Separately though. Not at the same time,” he is sure to clarify and he smiles as it makes her laugh again.

 

“I don’t know why I’m still having nightmares. Even one every few months is one too many,” she says softly, changing subjects. “It just doesn’t make sense to me because he’s gone. He’s gone forever and he’s never coming back and I have you and our kids and this house and I’m _happy_. I really am and I… I don’t like that he’s still in my head.”

 

Jon’s hand not holding onto hers lifts to brush along her cheek. “I don’t know what to tell you because I have absolutely no idea why you’re dreaming of him. I think… I think maybe it’s because of everything you experienced and went through when with him… I don’t know if that’s something a person is ever able to truly get over no matter how much their life has changed.”

 

“That’s a depressing thought,” Sansa muses.

 

“And that’s why I generally don’t talk a lot,” Jon says, trying to make a joke and doing his best to smile.

 

Sansa shakes her head. “But I don’t think you’re wrong.”

 

Jon kisses her forehead. “If you don’t mind, I just need you to say that one more time,” he says, his smile easier now and Sansa’s laugh lights up her face.

 

She never looks more beautiful to him than when she laughs.

 

“I don’t think you, Jon Snow, are wrong,” Sansa repeats dutifully and Jon cups the back of her head, kissing her with their lips curved into smiles against the other.

 

They watch the episode, Sansa throwing half of the blanket over Jon and the two snuggling together, but as the next episode begins, Jon kisses her on the head.

 

“I need hot chocolate, too,” he says. “Want some more?”

 

“Yes, please,” she smiles, handing him her empty mug. “Want me to pause this one?”

 

“Can we watch another season? I don’t really care about this episode.”

 

“Season 8?” Sansa guesses, already picking up the remote.

 

“You just want to see me angry,” he smirks, covering her with the blanket again before standing up.

 

“Of course, I don’t want to see you angry, Jon,” Sansa says with her best sugary-innocent smile. “Why ever would you be angry watching an innocent _Project Runway_ episode from season 8?”

 

“It was modern sportswear for Jacqueline Kennedy, Sansa,” Jon snaps and her laugher follows him as he walks from the family room into the kitchen.

 

They have a baby monitor on the counter so they can hear if George or Eleanor need them, but so far, all three kids are still sleeping soundly.

 

Jon pulls out the milk to begin boiling some more milk, looking towards the television, already rolling his eyes as Tim Gunn describes Jacqueline Kennedy to the contestants and explains the challenge. Jon remembers what Sansa had sketched from this episode; she always sketching her own ideas during the episode once she hears what the challenge is – a pair of coral sailor pants, a navy blue and white striped sweater and a navy blue puffy vest to be worn over. It had been simple and classic and Jon was showing _no_ favoritism whatsoever, but when he saw her finished sketch, he knew, without a doubt that if Sansa and Jacqueline Kennedy were living in the same time period, Sansa would have easily been her prime designer.

 

Once he has whisked and stirred and two servings of hot chocolate are steaming in two mugs, Jon leaves the kitchen to begin crossing back into the family room, but something from the corner of his eye stops him. Sansa has several lights around their house on timers to go on and off automatically at particular times and she has a small lamp in the sunroom; the warm, soft glow spilling over her work space.

 

Jon sets their mugs on the kitchen table before heading into the sunroom. Her drafting table has more than a few different sketches scattered across the surface. She has two dress forms – one for an adult woman and the other for a small child, which she uses when designing and making Brandon clothes. But that’s not what catches his eye. It’s some of the sketches on her drafting table – two in particular. It is a sketch of a girl’s baby outfit – shades of light blue and grey so it is not immediately associated with the usual “girls” colors, but the grey ruffles on the shoulders are definitely for a girl. And on another sketch, it looks like Sansa had doodled out a few ideas for a label.

 

_Yummy by Sansa Snow_

He smiles a little as he looks through the other sketches – more clothes for babies and for toddlers.

 

“Jon?”

 

He turns his head and Sansa is standing in the doorway, looking at him.

 

“Sorry,” he says with a small smile. “I didn’t know you’ve been sketching again.”

 

She has her hot chocolate mug and she steps into the sunroom, crossing to him and holding out his own for him to take. Sansa then looks over the sketches Jon is looking at as well. “I know I probably should be doing other things during their nap time, but I was having ideas and I wanted to get them out.”

 

“They’re great,” Jon says with a smile, looking at another one – a boy’s onesie in green with Sansa’s signature knitted wolfs’ head in grey embroidered on the bottom. Actually, this one could be a girl’s onesie, too.

 

“This is something I’ve been wanting to talk with you about,” Sansa says and Jon turns towards her within a second so she knows that she has his undivided attention. She pauses to take a sip of hot chocolate. “I remember when I began making Brandon some clothes and I received so many compliments – some from complete strangers, stopping me in the market or in the park, to ask me where I had gotten them and they seemed so surprised, and almost disappointed when I told them that I had made them myself.

 

“And I haven’t had that much time lately to do anything besides sketch, but I would love to make George and Eleanor some clothes, too, even though they grow so much every day and they’ll be unable to wear them within a month.

 

“But then I think about my job at the library and how much I love it and how much I miss it.”

 

Jon nods, knowing that already – that she both loves her job and that she misses it.

 

“And I know Snow Construction is doing _so_ well underneath the Baratheon Projects umbrella, but… I also know that the construction business is usually such an up and down business and at the university, my job is steady and it’s good money and if anything ever happened to you – whether business slows down or years from now, your health… _anything_ , I’d be able to take care of us. That and being an employee of the university, the tuition for our children would be 80% covered and even if just one of our kids out of our brood wants to go to college, that’s 80% of something we don’t have to pay.”

 

Jon smiles a bit at that and takes another sip of hot chocolate.

 

“And yes. I love designing my own baby clothes and dresses for myself and the occasional sweater for you, but I can always find the time for that and as long as I can do it for my family, I’m happy. I don’t need some lucrative fashion label to oversee.”

 

Sansa takes a deep breath and Jon sets his mug – _carefully_ – down onto her drafting table and then begins rubbing his hands up and down her upper arms.

 

“Why were you nervous about telling me?” He wonders because two things are obvious to him. Sansa _has_ been nervous in telling him all of that and she obviously has been working on her reasons for a while now.

 

Sansa hesitates and then shakes her head, keeping her eyes locked with his. “I didn’t want to insult you, but since neither of us have any idea how having one kidney is going to affect you later on down the road… I want to plan ahead and make sure all of our bases are covered.  I just didn’t want you think that _I_ think that you can’t take care of this family.”

 

“That honestly didn’t cross my mind,” Jon admits truthfully.

 

Sansa smiles at that and she sets her mug down as well before slipping her arms around his waist. “I want to be able to take care of you like you take care of me.”

 

Jon lowers his head at that and kisses her lightly on the lips. “I didn’t have a life before you, Sansa. And then I had you, but then I lost you and I had nothing, but an endless black hole for two years and now you’re here. And I get to wake up to you every morning and you gave me a life again. You take care of me without you even realizing that you do it. You’re the reason I breathe,” he ends on a whisper.

 

Sansa feels tears rush into her eyes form his unexpected words and she pushes her chin out, Jon pressing his lips to hers again; this kiss a bit longer and a bit harder than the previous.

 

She moans softly as his lips leaves her so he can slowly drag them along her jaw and then down her throat.

 

“I’ve also talked with Nan and Mr. Seaworth,” Sansa manages to continue.

 

“When?” Jon wonders, brushing some of her back over her shoulder so he has better access to her neck.

 

“About a week ago. We were able to have a phone conference during naptime and we’ve agreed that when the twins are two, they’ll be old enough and I’ll be more comfortable with putting them in the university’s daycare and Brandon will be in school by then and I didn’t know if my job would still be there, but both Nan and Davos said the library misses me and of course, I can have my job back.”

 

Jon lifts his head at that to look to her face. “Seriously?”

 

Sansa smiles and nods. “Obviously, since my maternity leave is just about finished, I’m not going to be paid for the next eighteen months, but it’s amazing that I can have my job back after being gone for so long.”

 

“Not _that_ amazing,” Jon replies with a slight shrug. “You’re an amazing librarian.”

 

Sansa finds herself smiling and she can’t seem to get herself to stop. Earlier nightmares are all, but forgotten now and she feels light and warm in her chest. And as if he can read her mind – and perhaps he actually can – Jon lifts his hands to her cheeks and gives her a kiss.

 

“Do you hear that?” He wonders, his lips hardly leaving hers to ask the question.

 

“What?”

 

From the family room, she can hear the quiet, low volume of the television, but other than that, the kids are upstairs, sleeping and outside, it’s the middle of the night and the world seems to be fast asleep, too.

 

Jon smiles against her lips and tightens his arms around her, holding her close. “Things falling into place.”

 

Sansa smiles against his lips, almost giggles, and being in tears just a bit ago is a memory now. Circling her arms around his shoulders, she’s the one to kiss him first this time.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for those still reading this one!


	19. All Together Now

…

 

 **Nineteen.** All Together Now.

“Are you alright to get her?” Jon asks as Sansa unbuckles and then hoists Eleanor out of her car seat.

 

Sansa doesn’t answer him. Instead, she turns and reaching out, she flicks his earlobe. Jon looks at her with wide eyes and then lets out a laugh, more out of shock than anything.

 

“I warned you that if you asked me that, I would flick your ear,” Sansa smiles at him.

 

She knows that Jon won’t be deterred though no matter how many times she threatens to or actually flicks his ear. He is going to keep asking her if she’s alright and if she can do this or that.

 

The surgery hadn’t been an easy one, but she had had the past month to recover and now, she feels as good as she’s ever felt. The surgeon had taken some extra skin from her buttocks and back of her thighs and had worked to cover the “R” carving on the small of her back. All of her other scars remained – she wanted them to stay – but when they finally removed the bandage, Sansa had begun to cry when she saw that that was one scar she would never have to see again.

 

In the days after the surgery, Sansa had been ordered to take it easy; to lay on her stomach and rest. That was a doctor’s order much easier to be said than to be followed, especially with a four-year-old and twin babies. But Lyanna and Catelyn – sometimes along with Arthur and Ned or one of Sansa’s siblings – had taken turns, coming over to help Sansa with the house and kids when Jon had to return to work. Brandon had been the best little helper; bringing his mama cups of water and juice upstairs to the bedroom where Sansa was lying on her front and asking if she needed anything.

 

After weeks of taking it easy – or doing her best to – Sansa is finally able to go out again; well, since Jon has been finally convinced that she’s able to go out. Jon thinks going to the Shoppes of Wintertown – the large indoor mall – is a terrible place to go, but Sansa has made an appointment for the Snow family to get their pictures taken at the portrait studio and they have a few other errands to run as well while they’re here. The Baratheon Brothers want Jon to get a new iPhone and one of children’s stores is running a sale on shoes.

 

“Hold my hand, sweetling,” Sansa tells Brandon once he hops down from the truck and he obediently lifts his hand to slip it into hers as Sansa holds Eleanor with her other arm.

 

Jon lifts George from his car seat and then going to the back of the truck, he manages to get down their stroller and unfolds it open using just one hand. He sets George down in the front seat and then taking Eleanor, he sets her down in the second seat and Sansa gets the diaper bag, putting it in the netting beneath the stroller. She then takes hold of Brandon’s hand again, looking down to the boy with a smile.

 

“Ready?” She asks.

 

“Yep!” Brandon exclaims eagerly.

 

“I’m not,” Jon frowns a little. “The mall on a Saturday. _Why_?”

 

They begin walking from the truck up the aisle to the entrance of the mall, Brandon skipping at Sansa’s side and Jon behind, pushing the stroller.

 

“I’ve told you _several_ times,” Sansa replies. “We have a picture of you, me and Brandon. Now, we need a picture with George and Eleanor, too.”

 

“But on a Saturday?”

 

Jon is very aware of the fact that he’s borderline whining right now, but he can’t help it. He hates the mall on any day of the week, but Saturdays especially. He’s convinced that there’s some sort of site where hundreds of people see that there is a meeting at the mall and they are all invited to be there at the same exact time.

 

At the doors, Brandon stands on his toes and tries to pull one open by himself.

 

“Brandon,” Sansa smiles at him. “It’d be best if you press the button so both sets of doors open,” she suggests and Brandon bursts into a grin at that. He likes pressing buttons much more and he goes scurrying over to press the button with the handicap wheelchair on it, both doors opening slowly for them.

 

He then comes back and takes Sansa’s hand once again and Jon carefully pushes the stroller through with Brandon and Sansa following behind. The instant they are in the mall and see the crowds of people, Jon can’t stop himself from sighing heavily.

 

“Do you need me to tell you that you’re being slightly dramatic?” Sansa asks, coming to stand at his side. Jon just looks at her and she gives him a smile before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. “The sooner we get in there while the twins aren’t closer to their afternoon nap, the sooner we’ll get the picture and can leave.”

 

With that, Jon begins pushing the stroller right towards the portrait studio near the doors they have come in through and he can hear Sansa laughing, following behind.

 

There is a woman standing behind the counter at the front of the store and she smiles as soon as they step inside. “Hello, welcome to Cerwyn Studios. I’m Carrie Cerwyn. May I help you?”

 

“Yes,” Sansa steps forward with a smile. “We’re the Snows and we have an appointment.”

 

“Oh!” Carrie’s smile grows. “Welcome! I’ve been expecting you!”

 

Carrie directs them where they can hang their coats in a tiny closet and shows them a book of backdrops they can choose from. Jon looks to the framed portraits hanging on the walls of other families, showing different poses and setups as he unwinds his scarf and unzips his coat. He then turns to begin unbundling George and Eleanor from their outerwear, but he keeps his eyes to the wall.

 

“Sansa,” he says and she looks up from helping Brandon out of his coat. “What about this one?” He asks, pointing to a portrait of a family. Sansa’s eyes follow his finger to see which one has caught his interest. “Or do you want something more subtle?”

 

Sansa stands up, slowly so not to aggravate her lower back, and she smiles as she looks at the dark blue with a few puffs of lighter grey clouds at the top of the backdrop – an overcast Northern afternoon sky with gray snow clouds gathering. To all from and living in the North, it’s a very common sight.

 

She looks to Jon, still smiling. “That one is perfect,” she nods and he smiles, too.

 

Once they are all out of the outer winter wear with their things hanging in the closet with the door securely shut and locked, Jon takes Eleanor and Sansa takes George and with Brandon between them, they head towards the studio in the back. Carrie is already there, setting up the lighting. She smiles again instantly as soon as they enter.

 

“So, I wasn’t sure if you had a particular idea of how you would like to be positioned. I have several furniture options and if the babies get a bit fussy, I have a few toys as well to try and get them to smile,” Carrie says.

 

“George should be fine, but Eleanor is going to be frowning no matter what you try,” Jon tells her.

 

“She’s our judgmental baby,” Sansa adds with a smile.

 

“Understood,” Carrie nods and Jon supposes that she’s probably been doing this long enough to have had a judgmental baby or two getting their pictures taken. “How about… both of you sit on the couch with a baby each in your laps and this little guy…”

 

“Brandon!” He exclaims excitedly.

 

“Brandon,” Carrie smiles. “Where would you like to be?”

 

“Can he stand on the couch?” Sansa asks.

 

“He most certainly can,” Carrie confirms with a nod. “Is there any music in particular you would like to listen to? And have you chosen any particular background?”

 

“The dark blue one with the snow clouds,” Jon answers.

 

“Do you have The Beatles?” Sansa asks.

 

“I have _Yellow Submarine_. Babies seem to love that one.”

 

“That one is perfect,” Sansa says with a smile and they then go to situate themselves on the couch as Carrie goes to get the proper backdrop set up behind them.

 

“Come here, Brandon,” Jon says and Brandon lets out a giggle as with his other arm, Jon wraps it around Brandon’s waist and hefts him onto the small couch so he’s standing between his parents. Brandon is never allowed to stand on the furniture at home while wearing his shoes and this is one of the most exciting things to happen to him today.

 

Sansa reaches over and straightens the jumper Eleanor is wearing as Jon sits her up in his lap. She then gently tugs on Brandon’s sweater so it’s not riding up before making sure that George’s pants are pulled down so his bare legs aren’t shown.

 

“Aren’t you going to make a fuss over me?” Jon asks her with a teasing smile.

 

“You’re completely hopeless no matter the amount of help,” Sansa informs him airily, biting back a smile.

 

Jon’s smile widens into a grin at that and he leans in, giving her a quick kiss, leaving her with a smile blooming across her own lips.

 

Sansa hasn’t been able to sew in the past month – leaning over her sewing machine would hurt her lower back too much while it is still healing – but earlier, before her surgery, she has made her family clothes that Brandon and the babies – thankfully – still fit in. Sansa is also wearing a dress she has made for herself and Jon is wearing black slacks and a gray sweater, also designed and sewn by Sansa. 

 

“Alright,” Carrie returns to stand in front of them, beside her camera. “You wanted the package with twenty shots, correct?”

 

Sansa nods in confirmation. “Hopefully, we can get all twenty.”

 

“I’ll take them fast,” Carrie promises. “Are we…” she trails off when she looks at what they are wearing.

 

Jon’s slacks and sweater; Sansa’s dress is a dark blue with a gray sash – the same gray as Jon’s sweater – beneath her breasts to give the dress an empire waist and she wears it with a gray cardigan sweater with ruffles on the shoulders. Brandon and George are dressed as Jon in the black pants and gray sweater – a wolf’s face embroidered on the fronts of both boys’ sweaters, and Eleanor is wearing a dark blue long-sleeve shirt – the same dark blue as Sansa’s dress – with a grey jumper over it, ruffles on the shoulders and matching grey leggings.

 

“You all look so perfect,” Carrie says and then shakes her head slightly as if she can’t believe that she has just said that. “I’m sorry. I mean, you look like you’re ready to get your picture taken.”

 

Jon and Sansa both smile from her initial comment; Sansa’s cheeks a bit pink though she knows that Carrie obviously has no idea that Sansa has made all of the clothes for the Snow family that day, and Jon is smiling at his wife with absolute pride reflecting in his eyes. He knows Sansa has no desire to make clothes for others outside of their family, but he hopes Sansa never forgets that she most definitely _can_ make clothes for others and be a raging success while doing it if she ever wants to have a change in careers or just wants to make a bit of extra money on the side.

 

“Alright, are we ready?” Carrie asks once she has pressed play on the small cd player and _Yellow Submarine_ beings to softly play throughout the room.

 

“Come here, Brandon,” Jon says again and holding a hand on Eleanor’s front, he puts his other arm around Brandon’s waist and Brandon laughs, the couch soft beneath his feet and he almost falls into Jon’s side. Sansa looks to the camera, smiling, and as Carrie counts down from three, Sansa tickles light fingers down George’s side just as Carrie reaches one, the baby exploding in a peel of laughter that makes Sansa laugh, too, and the flash of the camera is almost blinding.

 

Thankfully, neither of the babies or Brandon burst into tears from it; not this time anyway.

 

Carrie looks to the picture that has loaded onto her computer screen and she smiles at the image of the smiling and laughing family. She doesn’t want to tell them that they’ve gotten the perfect picture on just their first take – that almost _never_ happens and they did pay for nineteen more shots – but Carrie can’t imagine that she’ll be able to capture the Snow family any better than she just has.

 

Sansa in the middle of laughing, her face bright, and the baby George, his mouth open and eyes closed with joy as he laughs. Eleanor is staring right at the camera – the tiniest furrow between her eyebrows – and there’s something about her expression that almost makes Carrie laugh. She is a very _serious_ baby; her parents weren’t exaggerating with that. Brandon is leaning into his dad, one of his arms folded up onto Jon’s shoulder, and father and son seem to share the exact same smile – wide with teeth showing and the corners of their eye crinkling; almost as if both are about to start laughing as well.

 

“Ready?” Carrie asks. “Three, two, one!” She counts down and then squeezes the button in her hand, flashing the camera again, her eyes going back to her computer screen to see the second picture loading.

 

She’s not surprised to find that it’s nearly as perfect as the first picture. The Snows truly are a beautiful family. Carrie wonders if they’d be completely against it if she asked for permission to hang their picture on the wall out front among the other pictures already there so others coming into the studio can see it. She can easily imagine the Snow family being a great advertisement for the studio.

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! A bit of a shorter chapter, but I was smiling like an idiot the entire time I was writing it. I am also very excited to write the next/last chapter. It has been in my head for quite some time now.


	20. Only a Northern Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the best at writing scenes with so many characters, but the idea for this chapter had been in my head for so long and I knew I wanted to end the story with this. Thank you so many times to everyone who has stuck with me through this entire series. I can't tell you how much I have loved writing every word and how much I love all of you. Thank you!!

...

 

 **Twenty.** Only a Northern Song.

_“For he’s a jolly good fellll-ooowwww!_

_Which nobody can deny!”_

Jon is embarrassed at the attention being put on him, but he won’t be a bad sport about it. He just smiles as his friends and family sing loudly to him as he’s holding Julia in his arms. He looks to her and he wonders what his expression is because it makes the little girl giggle and Jon smiles, bumping his forehead to hers.

 

The Snow kitchen is packed that evening with all of their family – Lyanna and Arthur, Catelyn and Ned and all of the Stark siblings as well as their spouses and children – and their friends – Tormund, Edd, and Val, Gilly and Sam and their children, even Osha and Bowen Marsh are there that evening for the celebration as they should be for this celebration.

 

And of course, Sansa and their children are there as well, all crowded around Jon and singing the loudest. Brandon has just turned nine, George and Eleanor are four going on five, Julia is their next and is two and their youngest – and decidedly, their last – Max is almost six months now.

 

When the singing is done, Jon leans down and blows out the “1” and “0” candles on the cake on the table, everyone in the kitchen exploding in cheers.

 

“Speech! Speech! Speech!” Robb begins to chant loudly, almost immediately joined by Tormund and Rickon.

 

Jon is frowning at just the _idea_ of giving anything comparable to a speech, but then, his children join in – Brandon, George and Eleanor practically all bouncing on their toes as they chant, and even Julia joins in, always wanting to be just like her older brothers and sister.

 

Unable to stop from sighing heavily, he looks to Sansa, standing at his side with Max in her arms. She is smiling at him and her eyes are dancing with laughter.

 

Knowing there is no way he is going to get out of this, Jon sighs heavily, looking back towards everyone else and clearing his throat. As soon as they realize he is going to say something, they all quiet down and Jon gives them all a small smile.

 

“I can’t thank you all enough for being here today, to celebrate with myself and Sansa and our family. Everyone in this room, whether you are aware of it or not, has helped me at one time or another to help me reach today and I will never be able to thank you all enough for everything you have done for both me and my family.” He looks to Sansa and she is looking at him, smiling, but with unshed tears now reflecting in her eyes. He gives her a soft smile before looking to everyone else.  “So, I think it’s time for cake because we all earned a bit of this today.”

 

Everyone begins cheering again and Jon smiles at them all. He looks to Julia as she claps, too, and she then laughs as Jon leans in, kissing her on the cheek. He sets her down to her feet and he then kisses George, Eleanor and Brandon all on their heads before kissing Max’s head and then looking to Sansa. She is beaming at him – the tears still unshed in her eyes – and slipping a hand to the back of her head, he kisses her on the lips, still feeling her lips turned into a smile against his and he swears that the cheers only get louder.

 

Sansa had wanted to make Jon’s favorite cake for the occasion – chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting, but as she looked over the guest list, she knew that the best thing to do would order a large sheet cake from the bakery. She would make the chocolate cake when it was just them and the children.

 

Someone has taken Max from her – she thinks Val – and she moves to begin cutting pieces for everyone.

 

“That one, mom!” Brandon exclaims from her side, pointing to the corner piece so he gets that much more frosting. Sansa knows how her son thinks.

 

“Me, too, mama!” George exclaims.

 

“Me, too!” And of course, Eleanor joins in.

 

“Alright, wait, wait,” Sansa tells her bouncing children. “Grandpa Arthur loves the corner pieces, too. Let’s cut those first,” she says and tries to cut the four corners as carefully as she can with three of her children right at her elbows, waiting with excitement.

 

“Here, dear,” Catelyn appears, holding out paper plates for her to place the pieces of cake onto.

 

Once Brandon, Eleanor and George all have their plates of cake, they scamper off with hurried “Thank you” s; at least, Brandon tries to before Sansa stops him.

 

“Wait, Brandon,” Sansa says and then cuts the final corner. “Go take that to your grandpa,” she tells him, handing him the plate of the last corner piece.

 

There has been an argument – a good-natured one – from the living room over the music to play between Rickon and Tormund and it seems like Tormund had won since the Snow house currently isn’t thumping with rap music and instead, the Beatles – of course – are playing instead.

 

Together, Sansa and Catelyn cut pieces of the cake for everyone and Sansa takes a plate for herself and another for Jon and begins her search of her husband. He’s not in the kitchen and in the family room, Max is now sitting on his Grandpa Ned’s lap, chewing on one of his plastic rings and watching the rugby match on the television with his grandpa as if he understands the sport perfectly.

 

Max had been planned and yet, at the same time, not. She and Jon knew that they wanted either five or six children. A daunting number, yes, but Jon and Sansa both have always wanted a large family – Jon having been an only child and being adopted by the Stark children so he could experience siblings and Sansa wanting to always be like her own mother.

 

They joked that they had their Beatles names to go through and that was very true, but still, they were not expecting Sansa to fall pregnant with their fifth so soon after having just given birth to Julia. But, of course, Max is loved and wanted and as the youngest Snow, is always positively spoiled rotten by everyone.

 

Of course, when he was born and the family and friends learned his name, Sansa and Jon had received plenty of ribbing for it and they knew it would happen, but they didn’t care. They wanted their Max and they got him. Not to mention, Brandon had been absolutely ecstatic when he found out his youngest brother’s name.

 

There are others in the family room, all eating cake and watching the rugby match as well, but no Jon.

 

Ned turns and smiles when he sees her. “Everything alright?” He asks her.

 

“Of course. Should I take him?” Sansa offers.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Ned said while putting a protective arm around his grandson.

 

Sansa smiles and leaves the family room once making sure everyone has everything they need. Others are in the kitchen including Margaery – she and Robb having gotten married the summer before after years of a will they or won’t they dance and she is now pregnant with their first child – and Meera, wrestling with hers and Bran’s rambunctious three-year-son, Farlen, the two women discussing possible baby names and Catelyn coming to join in with her own suggestions while careful to not cause Margaery to think she’s forcing her opinions onto her and Robb. Lyanna doesn’t seem to have that issue.

 

“Always remember the playground, dear,” Sansa’s mother-in-law advises to Margaery.

 

Out the patio doors, Sansa can see Brandon and Little Sam – their pieces of cake already wolfed down – and are climbing and playing on the playground set – Ghost and Lady barking and playing with them – as George and Eleanor and Sam and Gilly’s second son, Simon, all play together on the swings. Sansa sees that Sam, Gilly, Osha, Gendry and Robb are all outside with them as well.

 

But no Jon.

 

She walks from the kitchen into the dining room and then into the living room where everyone else is, eating cake and listening to the Snow record collection. But no Jon in here either and now that Sansa has seen everyone, she notes that both Julia and Arya are missing as well.  

 

Slightly concerned now, Sansa begins heading up the stairs, wondering where they could be.

 

She soon has her answer. In the three bedrooms for the children, Eleanor and Julia now share one, George and Max share the second and Brandon, as the oldest, has been gifted with his own bedroom. Sansa finds her husband, youngest daughter and Arya in the girls’ shared bedroom, all sitting on the floor with plates of cake and Julia’s favorite pink plastic tea set.

 

Jon loves all of their children. He would die for all of their children and no one should ever doubt that.

 

But there is something special about Julia. She is a daddy’s girl through and through and Jon just absolutely loves her, looking at her with stars in his eyes. When she was a baby, she had colic for nearly three weeks and while everyone was at the ends of their ropes, Sansa crying just as much, right along with their daughter, Jon would take her and rock her and play her namesake song from the White Album, singing softly to her.

 

And still, whenever Julia is restless at night and they can’t get her to sleep, Jon will sing “Julia” to her.

 

It's how it is with Brandon, too. They just have a special relationship. 

 

Arya spots her first, standing in the doorway, and her sister gives her a smile, Sansa easily returning it.

 

“Mama!” Julia then sees her and holds her up her pink teacup. “Cake!”

 

“I see,” Sansa laughs at the icing smeared across her daughter’s lips. She steps into the room and comes to sit with them on the floor. “An entire party for you downstairs and you’re hiding up in here?” She asks Jon, teasing him with a smile.

 

Jon smiles back. “I wouldn’t call it hiding. I’d call it… selective attendance.”

 

Sansa does her best to not smile at that, but she fails. “For your eleventh, we’ll have something a bit quieter,” she promises him.

 

“Think there will be an eleventh?” Jon asks.

 

“And a fiftieth,” Sansa replies without hesitation.

 

“Why wouldn’t you have an eleventh?” Arya asks him with a frown.

 

“You know what they say. One day at a time,” Jon says with a shrug.

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything to that. She just reaches over and tucks a black curl behind his ear. He gives her a smile and then taking her hand, he kisses the palm.

 

She knows that Jon hadn’t wanted a big party for his tenth year of sobriety. It was just one of those things that had happened and Sansa couldn’t feel sorry for it. Her husband has been sober for _ten_ years. That is a huge cause for celebration and she knows that he hates drawing this much attention to both his alcoholism and his sobriety, but _ten_ years. She couldn’t just let today pass without _some_ kind of festivity.

 

But, in the back of her mind, she’s already planning Jon’s eleventh year – and there will be an eleven-year chip he receives next year – and next year, it will be just the two of them, their five children and a chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting. That sounds perfect to her, too.

 

…

 

“Mom! Tell George it’s my turn!” Brandon calls from the family room.

 

“My turn!” George exclaims in return.

 

“George,” Sansa pokes her head out from the dishwasher to see George standing between the kitchen and family room, hugging a movie to his chest, a great frown weighing his face. “Sweetheart, it’s Brandon’s turn to pick the movie. Remember, you chose last night?”

 

“No!” George shouts stubbornly, complete with a stomp of his sock-clad foot on the floor.

 

“George,” Eleanor frowns at her twin, showing her disapproval of his behavior.

 

Eleanor was their judgmental baby and she has carried that title over to now being their judgmental toddler, George seeming to be on the receiving end of her frowns most of the time. For being twins, they are close, but they could not be more different. Where Eleanor listens to Sansa and Jon when they tell them to do something, George is either magically deaf at the time of instructions or is immediately trying to find a loophole. If Jon says they can have one cookie, George will try to eat two, telling Jon that he _didn’t_ tell him that he couldn’t have two. Both Jon and Sansa are already dreading George in his teenage years.

 

“Brandon’s turn,” Eleanor tells him and George responds to that by throwing the movie down in a fit.

 

“Alright,” Jon leaves the kitchen to come and swoop George up into his arms. “What have me and your mama told you about throwing your things?”

 

“It’s not mine,” George tells his dad, looking the paragon of innocence while still giving a pout.  

 

Jon just gives him a look and then sets him down onto the L-couch. “You can’t move for five whole minutes. If you do, you go upstairs and can’t watch the movie with us.”

 

George’s response to that is to roll himself over, plant his face in a throw pillow and start kicking his legs.

 

Eleanor frowns at her brother’s display. Max, sitting on the floor, on his playmat, and chewing on a plastic hammer, watches as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen – though George throwing a tantrum happens at least twice a day. Julia, sitting on the other end of the L-couch as well doesn’t even look to the scene and continues brushing Lady’s hair as the dog sits prettily on the floor in front of her.

 

Brandon, kneeling on the floor in front of the television, looking over the movies frowns at George and then looks to Jon, opening his mouth to speak.

 

“I’ll tell you all about your toddler tantrums if you want,” Jon smiles at him.

 

Brandon closes his mouth and goes back to looking over the movies and still smiling, Jon goes back into the kitchen to help Sansa finish cleaning up from the party. He hand glides across the small of her back and Sansa turns her head, giving him a smile.

 

“The party wasn’t _too_ awful, was it?” She asks and Jon smiles a little, knowing that these are things that Sansa truly worries over.

 

Jon leans in and kisses her softly on the lips. “It was the best sober party ever given,” he assures her and Sansa rolls her eyes at that, but she’s smiling and her cheeks are pink and Jon kisses her again. “Thank you,” he then says to her quietly. “For the party and for…”

 

For a moment, words fail him because there are no words to fully express everything in his mind right now. It happens to him sometimes, when he and Sansa are chasing after five kids and going from one place to another and trying not to pull their hair out.

 

Sometimes, in the chaos, Jon will just stop and look at it all and smile.

 

This is his dream. This is absolutely everything he has ever wanted – and he’s only ever wanted it with Sansa. And here he is; here _they_ are.

 

After everything, they now have everything.

 

“For what?” Sansa wonders.

 

Jon looks at her with a small smile and shrugs. “For everything.”

 

He hopes she knows what he means, but then Sansa smiles and he knows that she does. She always does.

 

He leans in for another kiss and Sansa lifts her hands to his cheeks, kissing him in return.

 

“I love you,” she murmurs against his lips.

 

“I love you, too. Marry me?” Jon asks, his own lips curving into a smile when he feels her smiling and she then breaks into laughter, slipping her arms around his neck and hugging him tight; Jon kissing her on the corner of her jaw as his arms slide around her waist, squeezing her just as tight, never wanting to let her go.

 

…

 

The End.

 


End file.
